Through the Flames
by SparklingTwilight
Summary: One fateful night, 29y/o Edward must make the decision that haunts every firefighter's worst nightmares. In choosing between his life and that of another, life altering repercussions arise. Rated M. Contains graphic descriptions of fire. HF Warning.
1. Preface

Preface

The alarm bells sound just before the break of dawn and the silent air is shattered by the shrill ringing. A series of tones can be heard throughout the house followed by the disembodied voice of a dispatcher as the men inside the sleeping quarters jump from their beds, hastily sliding on their boots — the only part of their uniform they parted with before collapsing in exhaustion.

Within minutes they've donned their turnout gear and, helmets in hand, they jump into their trucks to pull away from the station with lights blazing and sirens blaring.

Adrenaline runs rampant as they head toward the scene; a five alarm fire - the likes of which haven't seen in well over six months. The Lieutenant turns in his seat and assists the rookie beside him with his coat collar, a silent acknowledgement of the young man's fears and a reassurance that he's not alone.

Arriving at the scene, the men are met with a frantic crowd. Citizens crying and screaming in panic over their loved ones still remaining in the building that is rapidly being destroyed by the raging inferno before them. Thick black smoke billows from the windows as flames lick their way around edges. The crackles and bursts emanating from within create the sinister laugh of this Devil's muse, daring even the bravest of souls to attempt to cross the threshold of the domain it's claimed.

Without a pause, the men band together in pairs and enter the gates of Hell on Earth in search of the fire's victims. They will not rest and they will not concede defeat. They will stand tall and put their lives on the lines for even those they do not know.

Unmovable curtains of smoke, flickering with the light of the flames surround them. The scorching heat is unbearable, but still they continue to search, moving slowly through rooms with sweeps of their flashlights and booming voices calling out to anyone who can hear.

From down the hall, they hear the terrified screams of a survivor. Their steps pick up pace as they use the sounds to lead their way, and upon spotting their rescuers, the victim's tears turn to ones of unfathomable relief.

Within the arms of their saviors, those trapped and left behind are delivered from the beast's clutches and into the awaiting embraces of their loved ones. Praises and sentiments of profound gratitude are showered upon the men, but the words, gestures, and watery smiles can only be savored for a fraction of a moment. They still have a demon to tame and conquer.

It's what they were born to do.

It's what they live for.

They are our true modern day heroes.

They are...Firefighters.


	2. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer__: Twilight character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. All intellectual properties associated with Through the Flames_ belong to SparklingTwilight. Plagiarism is theft. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization. Thank you.

* * *

The Weight of the World vs The Weight of Words

At ten to five Edward's alarm clock began to wail, it's obnoxious screeching rousing him from a dead sleep instantly as his arm shot out from under the blanket and knocked it off the nightstand. His bedroom was still dark, the sun not yet cresting the horizon as he rolled over with a groan, tossing his arms over his face and exhaustedly savoring the few minutes of silence he'd been awarded by the clattering of the clock to the floor. It didn't last as long as the snooze function, though; it never did.

"Tango," he grunted, pushing against the giant white lab that had jumped up on the bed just moments after hearing the alarm; always ready and willing to respond to the deafening tones they heard daily. "Get lost will ya?"

Tango whined and grabbed the edge of the blanket in his muzzle, dragging it to the bottom of the bed and onto the floor as he hopped off with a resounding thud. Not a minute later the alarm's electronic bleats began shrilling yet again. Edward rolled to pick it up off the floor and shut it off, placing it back upon the nightstand before rising from the bed completely and stretching his tired muscles.

The scent of coffee, made so strong it could jumpstart even the weariest of bodies and minds into a state of alertness, wafted up the stairs. He couldn't remember the last time he'd tasted a cup of coffee that wasn't brewed with a triple load of grinds. The liquid he poured into his mug resembled dirty motor oil more closely than the caffeinated beverage he'd known in his days of youth.

Edward opened his back door to let Tango out into the yard and walked out onto the small deck, wearing nothing but the pair of basketball shorts he'd slept in. The balmy July morning air, thick with fog, laid heavily against his bare skin and attempted to coat him in the same moist dew it had settled upon everything surrounding him during the night. He closed his eyes momentarily and deeply inhaled the fresh, albeit humid, air mixed with the pungent smell of his morning brew. He'd barely gotten a chance to release his breath when his eyes snapped back open at the sound of Tango digging in the landscaping — _again_.

"Hey! Get outta there ya big oaf," he snapped, waving his arm at the dog wildly while keeping his voice down so as not to disturb his still slumbering neighbors. No one should have to be up before the crack of dawn on a Saturday — at least no one who didn't have to work that day.

"Your Nana's gonna whoop your ass if you keep that up," he grumbled as Tango came trotting up to him, tongue hanging out of a goofy canine grin that only his mother and Edward could love.

He downed the rest of his coffee and turned to head back in the house, Tango hot on his heels. Back in the kitchen, he filled Tango's bowls with fresh water and breakfast before refilling his mug and grabbing his cordless phone from the charger. As he listened to the phone ringing, he rinsed his dishes from the previous night and loaded them into the dishwasher.

"Morning sunshine!" his voice sang with a teasing tone and false cheer as a muffled grunt resembling a "hello" filtered across the line. "Get your butt outta bed, bro. You're gonna get your ass suspended if you're late one more time this month."

"No I won't," Emmett scoffed groggily, "I'm the Chief's kid. He ain't gonna suspend me."

"Don't test Pops, Em. He'll do it and he's already warned you once."

Edward's gentle warning was met only with a poorly concealed snort and he sighed, thinking his little brother would one day realize that being the Chief's kid didn't make you untouchable. If anything, it cast you in a spotlight to be made an example of. "Hey speaking of warnings, it's your turn to stock the kitchen at the house. Better get movin' if you're gonna make it to the market and work on time."

"_Shiiiit_," Emmett groaned, drawing out the word as he rubbed a hand over his face. "Bro, I'll _pay you_ if you do it. Please? I freakin' _hate_ goin' food shoppin'. Rosie always does it and I forgot to ask her to go for me yesterday."

Edward rolled his eyes as he chugged a few sips of coffee and dumped the rest down the drain. "Emmett, one of these days you're going to have to grow up and be a responsible adult. You got a kid on the way, man. I'll go this time, but it's _the last time_ I'm doing this shit for you, got it?"

"Yeah, got it, bro. I'll pay your part when I get there. Any chance I can get you to throw my turnout gear in the wash when you get there? Those things smell like ass," Em asked with a smile in his voice.

Edward slammed the dishwasher door shut, gritting his teeth as he shook his head and breathed deeply through his nose. It wasn't enough to contain his irritation, however. He was sick and tired of constantly being walked all over by his younger siblings.

"What the fuck, Emmett! You've been off for two goddamn days now, why didn't you do that shit while you were off? What the fuck are you gonna wear if we get called to a fire?"

"Your old gear? It's still at the station right?" he proceeded hesitantly, knowing it was only quarter after five in the morning and he'd already pushed his eldest brother over the edge. That wasn't really the best way to start a day in which they'd be spending a full twenty four hours together nonstop.

Edward rubbed circles on his temples, reminding himself over and over again that this was his baby brother and it was his duty to make sure he was taken care of. And part of taking care of him meant taking care of his turnout gear so it'd protect him when it needed to on a call.

"You're a pain in my ass, Em. You're lucky we're blood related or I would have hosed you by now...not saying I won't," Edward grumped as he climbs the stairs towards the shower.

"Sooo...is that a yes? You'll wash my gear?" he asked, holding in his victory punch until he received confirmation.

"Sure...after I let Tango piss all over it, ya lazy shit," Edward smirked, though in the back of his mind it really didn't seem like all that bad of an idea.

"Thanks, bro...but don't let..."

"Yeah, yeah...I gotta go," Edward cut him off, not wanting to hear his whining that would inevitably turn into him asking for yet another favor before six am.

"Pick Jasper up on your way in since I won't be able to do it now. His car's in the shop again and Alice has to work today, and I swear to God, Emmett, be on time or I _will _hose your ass!" he warned before hanging up the phone.

As Edward stood under the steaming spray of the shower, he wondered if his brothers would ever stop acting like irresponsible little kids. He often felt like their second father, always having to do everything for them and try to keep them in line. His shoulders sagged with the realization that if anything ever happened to both him and their father while on the job, his brothers would be tossed into the deep end of the swimming pool without so much as a pair of kiddie swimmies to share to help keep them both afloat.

At twenty nine, Edward was a completely independent, responsible adult. He owned a new Toyota Tundra crew cab pick-up truck and his own home - a nice little three bedroom colonial on a quiet tree lined street, complete with a wrap around privacy fence and neatly manicured lawn. He'd scraped by and saved every penny he'd earned for years, working overtime as often as he could to buy the home he'd hoped to one day fill with a family of his own - something which had yet to happen.

But it would, when he met the right person and the timing was right — at least that's what he always told himself. And when it did, he'd be ready. He was financially secure, his mortgage was just a few years short of being paid off, and his savings account had finally been built back up after the cringe worthy hit it had taken in helping Emmett and Rose buy their townhome a year ago.

It wasn't the only hit his savings account had taken over the years either.

Three years prior, he'd forked out over four grand to keep Jasper's Mustang from being repossessed — only for him to again not make the payments six months later and have it taken in the middle of the night from his and Alice's apartment parking lot. After that, it was impossible for Jas to get another loan for a car without having an astronomically high interest rate on top of needing a surreal down payment, so Edward and their parents went in together and bought him a decent pre-owned car; which he'd, in turn, beaten to shit over the years.

At twenty-six and twenty-two, Jasper and Emmett were two of the most irresponsible people Edward had ever known. He often found himself wondering how they were both settled down and married, yet, practically still living the lives of bachelors. It was infrequent, mainly only for major sports events, that Edward ever joined his station brothers for drinks at the bar on their nights off, but it had been the weekly routine for his siblings and Emmett's wife for what seemed like a lifetime. The only thing that had changed over the years was that Rosalie had currently been exchanging her customary Jack & Cokes for just plain soda.

As he got dressed, donning the work uniform he'd ironed the night before, he wondered how long it would take for Emmett and Rosalie's ship to sink after his niece or nephew was born.

On his way out of his house, Edward made sure all the lights and the coffee pot were turned off and grabbed his spare gear bag from the garage. He tossed it into the bed of the truck and opened the driver's side door for Tango, who promptly and proudly took his shotgun seat beside Edward.

"You ready, boy?" he asked as he started up the truck. He reached over to rub the top of his head playfully, earning a happy bark as his wagging tail thumped against the truck door. "Maybe we should hose you down along with your Uncle Emmett, Tango, cause you _stink_, buddy."

Edward laughed as Tango rumbled out a groan while he backed the truck out of the driveway. It was a short trip to the market and Tango let his ears and jowls flap in the wind the entire way. It was an even shorter trip inside the store as Edward methodically worked his way up and down all the aisles, grabbing everything the station would need for the week and making sure not to forget the two giant tubs of _Folgers_ coffee grinds. He only made it three steps away before he turned around to grab a third one — just to be on the safe side.

By the time he made it to the station house, it was just after six-thirty and the sun was already beginning to shine brightly as the last remnants of the night's fog dissipated. He made his way toward the building, Tango running circles around his legs in excitement. The bay door had barely opened before Cash, Edward's best friend's black lab and collie mix, squeezed himself out from underneath it. The two dogs chased each other around the parking lot, barking up a storm and jumping all over each other playfully. Edward chuckled, shaking his head at them as he headed toward the kitchen, his arms weighed down with the bags of a cart-full of purchases.

"Hey Chief, you're up early."

He was surprised to see his father standing in the kitchen, watching sludge even stronger than Edward's ooze into a coffee pot intently, as if watching it would make it brew faster.

If Edward's brew could put hair on your chest, Carlisle's could burn it off with the heartburn you'd inevitably get after just three sips.

"Late's more like it," Carlisle sighed, turning to lean against the counter and crossing his arms over his chest. "Car spun off the road and flipped into a ditch just after four this morning. We just got back from the scene about twenty minutes ago. Took us an hour and a half to extricate the vics. I don't think a one of us has gotten more than forty minutes of sleep in the last twenty-four."

Edward nodded as he listened, moving around the kitchen efficiently as he put everything away and wondered what kind of shift his crew would have. If it was anything close to what it sounded like the guys getting ready to come off shift just had, he was grateful for the solid ten hours of sleep he'd managed to get the previous night.

"Listen, I hate to ask this of you with how many shifts you've been pulling recently, but do you think you can cover for Tyler tomorrow and I'll have Eric cover you Monday?" Carlisle asked hesitantly, hating that he was working his son half to death, but knowing he was the only reliable one to ask at the moment. "I'll work something out for his shifts for the remainder of the month..."

"Rest of the month?" Edward interrupted, halting in the middle of the kitchen and facing his father with furrowed brows.

"Yeah, he slipped off a the rung of a ladder propped against a building last night and dislocated his shoulder. He'll be out for the next three weeks at least, but he's lucky that was the only injury he sustained from it aside from a few minor bumps and bruises. He had to be at least seven feet up in the air when he fell straight down onto the concrete," Carlisle nodded as he spoke, scratching his two day old stubble.

"Sure, I'll cover tomorrow. And if you can't get anyone else to cover his other shifts I'll cover them as well...on one condition," Edward smirked as he quirked a brow at his father and leaned back against the counter across from him.

"What's the condition?" Carlisle asked, unable to keep his amused smile at bay.

"You give me the last three weeks of August off."

A grin made its way across his face as Carlisle laughed as he turned to pour himself a cup of tar, shaking his head as he responded.

"I'd have to anyhow sometime soon because you're approaching your PTO cap...that is unless you were planning on cashing in some of those hours?" he asked with concern. He'd sincerely rather Edward took the much needed break than cash in his vacation hours. Carlisle feared that if he kept pulling such grueling hours, the exhaustion and stress would take its toll on his ability to make sound decisions. The _last_ thing he needed was to have his first born son get hurt on the job because he'd placed himself in increased danger with an err in judgment.

"Not a fat chance in hell," Edward laughed, shaking his head incredulously.

"I've been working an average of twenty-plus shifts a month for the last six months running when I should've only been pulling thirteen to fifteen. Sometimes I wonder why I even bought a house when it feels like I live here most of the time anyway."

While Edward had returned to putting away the groceries, he'd missed the pained look on his father's face with his words. Carlisle had known he'd been working way too many shifts, but he hadn't realized it had been for so long. It was no wonder the boy hadn't found himself a nice woman to settle down with when he was working practically twenty-four-seven. He was certain that on the few days Edward managed to _not_ be at the station, he was tending to his home and running errands that had been neglected during his absence.

He often wondered how he and his wife had raised such a hard working, responsible, and down to Earth kid when his brothers were his complete polar opposite.

"I hadn't realized it's been that long you've been working such an overloaded schedule," Carlisle said as he crossed the kitchen and gripped the back of Edward's neck. "Tomorrow is the only shift I'll ask you to cover. Your brothers and I owe you a few dozen and so does everyone else around here so as soon as Tyler's cleared to come back, you'll get your three weeks off...and another three come December."

"Pop," Edward sighed as he shook his head. "August is enough for me. I can head up to the cabin with Tango and decompress while spending my days fishing and drinking beer."

He didn't need the extra time away from the job. He just wanted to be able to get away from everything for a week or two, and managing to make it up to the cabin just once before the summer ended was just the ticket he needed to unwind, but his father felt otherwise. With his son's mental and physical wellbeing on the line, he'd force him to take the time away if need be, though he'd rather not have to resort to suspending him.

"Three weeks in December, Edward," Carlisle reiterated sternly, his tone telling Edward he wouldn't take no for an answer. "I'll even pay you out of my own vacation hours and you and I can make a trip up to Alaska for some ice fishing before Christmas like we used to do when you were a kid. It's been a while since we've been."

"Ten years to be exact. We haven't made that trip since I graduated the fire academy," Edward nodded with a half grin. He hadn't had the time since then to make the annual trip with his father, and it wasn't until his father had brought it up that he'd acknowledged how much he'd missed having that time away from the stresses in his life — including his brothers. "Ice fishing it is, then."

Carlisle parted with a clap on Edward's shoulder as he informed him he was heading home for some much needed sleep, but that he'd check in sometime later that evening. Within minutes of his departure, the station was bustling with activity. Guys were heading down the stairwell with bags tossed over their shoulders, fist bumping each other and the guys coming in the door as their relief before exhaustedly schlepping toward their vehicles to head home.

Edward stood in the kitchen and lifted the coffee pot to his nose. Just one whiff of Carlisle's coffee contorted his face into a disgusted grimace as he quickly dumped it down the drain to make a new pot for himself and the guys. Even _he_ couldn't stomach that questionable liquid with soggy grounds mixed in. It looked like mud in the sink basin as Edward rinsed it down the drain and refilled it with fresh water. With the coffee brewing, he headed off to toss Emmett's gear into the industrial sized washer and replaced the gear in his locker with his old set.

Emmett was lucky they shared the same first initial, making the backs of their coats identical, reading E. Cullen, because had they had differing first initials, wearing his old gear would have been forbidden. It would have caused too much confusion on scene. As it stood, when Emmett had joined, Carlisle had ordered Edward new turnout gear just to be able to differentiate his sons on scene. Emmett got the standard issued black ensemble with yellow reflective bands and Edward got a new set with silver bands. The different colors were the only way to tell them apart from a distance because they were roughly the same height and build.

"Hey, Ed! We left ya thirty a piece on the table, is that enough?" Alec's voice shouted from inside the truck bay, his voice echoing in the large open expanse.

"Yeah, man. That's plenty," Edward answered as he made his way toward him, cutting around the back of their ladder truck and between it and their rescue tanker.

"Where the hell are Emmett and Jasper? It's quarter after seven already," Alec asked after glancing down at his watch.

"Late...as usual. Can you do me a favor and pull all the trucks out of the bay? We need to do a quick scrub n' rinse while it's still calm around here," Edward said as he walked over to the garage door control panel to open the other three bay doors.

"You got it, Lieutenant," Alec nodded, turning immediately to follow through with his orders.

Edward grabbed a baseball out of a bucket near the side entrance door and headed outside to play fetch with Tango and Cash while he waited for his brothers to make their appearance. The peacefulness of the early morning was broken moments later by the sound of diesel engines starting up and pulling out of the garage, but the ruckus didn't bother him a bit.

He loved the deep rumble of their trucks and the wail of their sirens and air horns just as much. To anyone else, to people who don't live to fight fires the way he does, those noises might be obnoxiously irritating, but to him they're simultaneously invigorating and comforting. They reminded him of when he was a little boy and his father would let him ride in the front seat with him during parades.

At seven forty-five, Emmett's battered and outdated Jeep Cherokee with bald tires came flying into the parking lot. Edward waited patiently against the side of the building for his brothers to exit the vehicle, and the moment they did and began to approach him with apologies and excuses on the tips of their tongues, he pulled the fire hose from behind his back and unleashed a steady stream of water onto the pair of them, knocking them both clear off their feet. Curses and enraged shouts echoed between the buildings as his brothers flopped around on the ground trying to escape the powerful spray. The rest of their crew came flying around the corner at the sounds of the commotion and cracked up hysterically at the sight that greeted them as Edward turned the nozzle off.

"I warned you I'd hose your ass if you were late again," Edward grinned smugly as they picked themselves up off the blacktop.

"It wasn't my fault!" Emmett roared, pissed off for getting hosed down like that. "This prick got kicked out onto the couch last night and Alice wouldn't let him in the bathroom to shower this morning!"

"There's showers here. What else ya got, Em?" Edward taunted as he dropped the hose, squaring his shoulders and taking slow steps toward his seething brother. Emmett didn't bother to answer him, choosing instead just to clench his jaw and tighten his lips as his eyes narrowed angrily.

"Edward, it really wasn't his fault. Ali locked me out of the bedroom last night and wouldn't even let me in just to grab my uniform much less shower," Jasper panted breathlessly, trying to ease the tension between his brothers.

Edward tilted his head slightly as he glared at Emmett, silently issuing a confirmation that he'd throw down with him if that was what he really wanted, but while Em was notorious for being a hothead, it would take more than a pool full of water hitting him with bruising force to _ever_ raise his fists to his brother again. Not after disgracing himself and his family by assaulting the one person who _always_ put everyone else before himself.

The memory of the bar brawl instigated by Emmett's mix of extreme intoxication and short temper when Edward tried to drag him out of the joint at the bartender's request, had Em backing down and relaxing his threatening stance instantly. The memory of that night was just as sobering as the beat down he'd received at the hands of the one he'd unjustifiably assaulted to start with.

"What'd you do this time?" Edward cocked an eyebrow at Jasper, ending his stare down with Emmett. He knew it must have been something good for Alice to have booted him from the bedroom.

"I...uh, shit...I went to the casino last week with the guys and dropped about a grand and yesterday we found out that it's gonna cost over double that to replace the transmission in the car...and we don't have it," he muttered, rubbing his neck in shamed unease.

"Oh that's _priceless_," Edward barked out a humorless laugh. Inside, he was boiling with anger because no matter how many times people have bailed Jasper out of his self-created financial disasters, he _never_ learned.

"I didn't know the goddamn transmission was gonna go in the car, bro. I'm not a fuckin' _psychic_," Jasper bristled as Edward shook his head and started backing away.

"One of these days you two are gonna have to grow the hell up and join the rest of the world in adulthood because there may come a day when neither Pops or me are around to bail your asses out," Edward warned sternly before turning on his heel and stalking into the house. He made his way into the Chief's office and slammed the door shut behind him.

After pacing the office floor for all of five minutes, Edward snatched the phone up out of its cradle and dialed his parent's number. When his mother answered, he briskly asked for his father. Upon hearing the strain in his voice, she woke Carlisle urgently, her concern for her first born mounting exponentially with every passing second. She feared the level of stress he carried daily would one day take him from her, and she couldn't bear the thought of ever losing him.

"Edward? What's wrong? Did something happen?" Carlisle rambled, his voice gruff from sleep.

"When Tyler comes back, I want off this shift. I'll swap with him or any guy not on _this _crew. I can't...I can't..."

"Son, relax _please_. Just sit down and take some deep breaths," Carlisle pleaded, sitting up in bed as Edward plopped down into the office chair.

Minutes of silence passed over the line as Edward tried to tame his temper and Carlisle resolved himself to make the decision he should have made long ago. He'd purposely put his younger boys on that shift together, knowing full well that Edward would do everything he could to keep them out of harm's way — even when they put themselves there with their own thoughtless actions. But the time had come to acknowledge that his sons were no longer rookies. They were grown adults and it wasn't Edward's job to be their babysitter nor was it fair to have had him act as such either.

"I'll take you off of it as soon as possible, Edward. Just...whatever happened today to set you off...don't let it affect the rest of your crew. The last thing we need is more of you getting hurt because the tension between the three of you makes it impossible for everyone to function together as a team," Carlisle conceded after sighing.

Edward said nothing in response right away, his eyes casting down to the floor as he heard the disappointment in his father's tone. He wasn't sure when, but at some point it just seemed that he had begun to let his parents down continuously. He'd lost track of how many times he'd heard that disappointment in his father's voice directed at him, and frankly, he was growing tired of it.

"Ya know what?" he asked rhetorically as he ran a hand through his short cropped hair atop his head agitatedly, "Forget it. I'll deal with it, I'm sorry for waking you."

"Edward," Carlisle breathed, a pang shooting through his chest at the hurt tone in his son's voice followed rapidly by the click of the line going dead.

He tried to call back immediately but received no answer and quickly dialed Edward's cell phone, only to get the same result. By the time he dialed the number for the station house itself, Felix answered and informed him that Edward and Alec had just left to go refill the tanker truck's water reservoir.

Emmett, realizing his father was on the phone when Felix said the word Chief, rose from the table and held his hand out for the phone. Venom was already spewing from his lips by the time the receiver was fully pressed to his ear.

"Pop, you and your boy need to have a little sit down. I'm gettin' sick and tired of his bullshit..."

"Emmett, what time did you show up today?" Carlisle interrupted, barely keeping his anger concealed.

"Um...like fifteen minutes ago or so?" he replied questioningly and hurried to try to explain, "But it wasn't my fault. See, Jasper dropped a shitload of cash last week and then his car broke down and the transmission needed to be replaced and they just found out yesterday that it's gonna cost like two and a half grand to fix it and now they don't have the money so Alice got pissed and made him..."

"Emmett!" Carlisle yelled after his first three attempts to interrupt him failed. "I don't give a shit what caused you to be late _today_. You've been late for nearly _every _shift for the last three weeks..."

"It's because Rosie and her damn cravings have me running all over the place in the middle of the night. She won't let me sleep for shit..."

"That's no excuse, Emmett. I had to do that for a combined twenty some odd months when your mother was pregnant with the three of you. I was _never_ late for a shift," Carlisle scolded, interrupting him again. "I'm not going to suspend you because it's unfeasible for me to do so at the moment."

"I knew you'd understand," Emmett grinned, feeling victorious. He'd told Edward that very morning that the Chief would never suspend him.

"Understand nothing, son. In lieu of suspension, you and Jasper are going to be covering Tyler's shifts for the rest of the month. Your brother's been killing himself filling in for everyone for the last six months. It's only fair for you two to try walking in his shoes for a little while. Maybe _then_ you'll appreciate how much he does for both of you and how hard he works to able to do so," Carlisle explained, ignoring the choking sounds filtering through the line.

"Are you shitting me? He fuckin' hoses us down this morning and _I'm_ the one getting lectured and punished like a damn five year old?" Emmett barked heatedly.

"If you don't want to be treated like one, stop _acting _like one!" Carlisle hollered. "Do you ever stop to think about how much Edward does for you before you start trample right over him, hells bent on doing whatever it is you feel like at the moment? Did you ever actually _thank_ him for the fifteen grand he gave you for the home you and Rosalie now live in, or for the baby furniture he bought both of you?..."

As Emmett listened to his father's ranting and raving for a half hour on the phone over each and every one of the instances in which his brother had helped them, no questions asked and nothing expected in return, Emmett's pride began to dwindle as shame overwhelmed him. He never really _had _thanked him for any of it and it shamed him even deeper that over the years, he'd pretty much come to expect his brother to always be there ready and willing to help him.

The news that he'd requested to be taken off their shift had nearly knocked the wind right out of him with the weight of the underlying reason for his request. The acknowledgement of it sank like a cinder block in his gut, right along with the realization that Edward had truly meant what he'd said earlier.

He really _wouldn't_ always be there to bail them out.

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**A/N****: Okay so I'll be honest here. You'd think after being a semi-established author with three completed stories, you'd think I'd be over the nervousness of posting by now...but here I've sat for the last few hours, trying to bring myself to post this. It's utterly ridiculous, but there you have it. This story isn't like anything I've ever done before, and I'm REALLY hoping you all enjoy it. **

**With that said, this story isn't going to be for the faint of heart or the faithful fluff lovers. It's jam packed with familial drama, heartfail, and the realism of the fallout following a choice that leads to a tragic life altering event. I've read a large number of Firefighter fics, and I feel the need to issue a warning that this fic will not be glorifying their profession. This story revolves around the realities of their careers, and I hope it portrays the true reasons why they deserve the incredible amounts of respect that they do.**

**I hold this story very near and dear to my heart, and when it's completed, I hope all of you who read it will too.**

**I'll get off my soapbox now. Reviews are much appreciated ^_^ Thank you!**


	3. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Twilight character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. All intellectual properties associated with _Through the Flames_ belong to SparklingTwilight. Plagiarism is theft. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization. Thank you.

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The Loyalty of Brotherhood

A few miles away from the station, Alec and Edward stood alongside of the tanker truck, refueling it after having filled it with water and driven around in circles while Alec lent him a friendly ear upon which to unleash his tension. They'd been friends for nearly their entire lives - having been classmates for twelve straight years, played pee-wee through varsity sports with each other, and even having gone through the fire academy together. He was the only person with whom Edward felt comfortable venting his frustrations — and he vented often.

Much like Alec did over his twin sister Jane.

Edward empathized with him, having worked numerous shifts with her over the years and become all too familiar with her "_Just-because-I-have-a-vagina-doesn't-mean-I-can't-do-your-job-and-do-it-better_" attitude. He, himself, had never doubted her abilities for a minute as he'd seen she was just as capable as the rest of the guys were, if not more so in some instances with her small frame and having the capability of squeezing into confined spaces they'd be otherwise unable to. It had proven to be a valuable ability a handful of times over the years, but it was a far cry from being a justifiable excuse for her superiority complex.

In his eyes, they were equals. She could weasel her way into crawlspaces and the occasional ravine crevice, and he could carry a hundred pound reel of hose on each shoulder while running up seven flights of stairs, an ability that came in handy when needing to carry a two hundred pound person to safety without assistance.

"You're not really going to bail on us, are you? We're a family, man...a dysfunctional one at times, but a family nonetheless," Alec chuckled, attempting to not sound disheartened at the news. If you asked him, he'd much rather the Chief put Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum on an alternate shift instead of the Lieutenant, his best friend.

"No. It's not worth the aggravation of the family drama that would ensue if I followed through with it," Edward replied as he kicked the truck's tire. Silently he amended his statement - it wasn't worth disappointing his parents to follow through with it. They'd entrusted him to keep his brothers safe as best he could, and transferring to another rotation wouldn't accomplish that at all.

"I wouldn't say that. Personally, I'd say it'd be worth every bit of the family drama if it took you back a step away from having a stress induced heart attack before thirty," Alec responded bluntly, unafraid of sharing his unfiltered thoughts. With anyone else, he might beat around the bush or sugarcoat his words, but between the two of them, they always spoke their minds freely.

A bark from inside of the truck had both men looking up to see Cash trying to stick his snout through the cracked open window, and the sight of him brought a question to Edward's mind.

"Hey, man...where were you this morning when I came in? Cash came running out from under the bay door so I knew you were there, but your truck wasn't in the lot," Edward questioned curiously as Alec removed the gas nozzle from the tank and replaced it in the holster.

"Heidi filed for a divorce and served me the papers last night. Jane dropped me and Cash off at the station around midnight because I just couldn't stand spending another night there, and since the truck was legally in Heidi's name, I left it with her," he smirked with a shrug.

"Pissed her off something wicked too, but I couldn't give a shit less. She can get her boy toy to finish paying it off for all I care. I never wanted that damn piece of crap to start with."

"That sucks, man. I'm sorry. If you need a place to crash, I got room," Edward offered without hesitation.

"Nah, I'm good. Thanks though. I just gotta get through this shift and then go apartment hunting tomorrow after buying a new truck. Should be able to move in someplace by the end of the week at the latest," Alec responded with ease and then laughed. "And leave the consolations at the door when ya get back in the truck. We should go out and celebrate the next night we both have off. I feel like I've been given a death row pardon by the Governor himself."

Edward laughed heartily as he climbed up into the cab, shaking his head incredulously. The ride back to the station was much more comfortable, the tension previously radiating from Edward's shoulders eased and no longer stifling the air around him. He didn't get irritated again when he had to remove Emmett's turnout gear from the frontload washer and hang it to dry even though he had been there the entire time and could have done it himself. And as he passed Jasper on his way into the lounge, he playfully punched his shoulder, smiling as he told him the repairs to his car had been paid for and he could pick it up in the morning.

He'd called the auto shop while they were filling the water tank and paid the bill over the phone, giving his little brother not only his car back, but also his wife and bed in one fell swoop. Had he done that a week or even a day before, Jasper would have just been happy about it and never thought twice about it — but it hadn't been a week or a day before, and instead of being happy, he felt guilty. Incredibly guilty.

So goddamn guilty that the half eaten sandwich in his hand that he'd been devouring up until that moment, ended up in the trash as he headed outside to call Alice to let her know that he was going to pick up Tyler's shift the following day in Edward's place. With the extra money he made from that additional shift and the others he planned to pick up until Tyler returned, he'd start paying Edward back for all the money he'd given him over the years.

His only hope was that it wasn't too late to start trying to make it up to him and, hopefully, enough of an incentive to keep his brother on their shift. Deep down, Jasper knew he couldn't handle the job without knowing his brother had his back every step of the way. He didn't want to admit it to any of the guys in the house, or even his own family, but their line of work scared the hell out of him. Every time he heard the station alarm or the pager tones, he feared it would be his last call.

What he didn't know, because he'd never bothered to confide in either Edward or his father, was that _every_ man, and woman, in that station house had that same fear deep down. It was that fear that kept them alert and focused when chaos and danger surrounded them. It was also that very fear that drove them to save others from the same possible fate that caused their hearts to sprint in staccato rhythms within their chests each time they entered a burning building.

The other thing he didn't realize, was that Edward knew he was afraid.

And, an hour later, when the station alarm and pagers began to erupt through the air and the guys donned their gear and jumped into their trucks, Edward acknowledged that fear in his brother and tamed it with the simple gesture of turning in his seat and helping his fumbling fingers to secure the collar on his turnout coat. He didn't say a word, knowing that the action in and of itself was enough to assure his brother that he'd be by his side until they returned to safety.

Edward knew it was enough because it was exactly what their father had done for him as a rookie until he'd learned to tame the fear to the point where it guided him by instinct rather than placing him in increased danger by making him freeze up or panic at precisely the wrong moment. He'd done it for Emmett as well when his initial bravado had gone up in flames right along with the first structure fire he'd ever encountered that hadn't been carefully ignited and controlled for the purpose of training.

The real deal was impossible to experience in all of its unpredictable, unstable, and unforgiving nature in an educational setting. It was the one thing instructors tried to teach them but could never really be learned and understood until they were standing in the middle of it and trying to recall everything they'd been taught to keep themselves unharmed and alive.

Emmett, still riddled with shame after his father's words and unable to face his brother even after having hidden out in the station's sleeping quarters all morning, chose to jump on board with the guys in the rescue pumper instead of in the aerial ladder with his blood family. Throughout the entire ride to the scene, he muttered not a single word as he absentmindedly affixed his radio to his borrowed turnout jacket and fastened the collar flaps, trying to dredge up the enthusiasm he always had when responding to a call, but able to find none.

He couldn't find it because it was flying down the road fifty feet in front of him in the aerial ladder's cab. He couldn't muster it up on his own because it had never been in him to begin with. It wasn't the calling to fight fires that drove him, but the ability to share in the thrill of the job with his brother and to see the pride shining in Edward's eyes when they came out victoriously — and knowing that part of that pride was reserved for him.

Alec and Felix in the seats ahead of him noticed his abnormally pensive state instantly, but left him to his thoughts. Alec was fairly certain what had caused it after hearing about the one-sided phone call some of the guys had witnessed, and chose to keep quiet rather than give the gossip mongers any more fuel to add to their ever burning brushfires. Some of the guys in the department were worse than little old ladies at Friday night bingo; a regular bunch of Chatty Kathy's — and Newton in the backseat was one of them.

It was best for Alec to let sleeping dogs lie and keep an extra eye on the little boy he'd watched grow into a man who still idolized his big brother with every bone in his body.

Upon arriving on scene, Edward assessed the situation rapidly, noting the abandoned vehicle that had been set afire and had spread to the patch of woods beyond, and started yelling out orders.

"Emmett, Jasper, get those hoses unrolled and connected! Felix, I want you in the bucket! Do what you can to stop it from spreading! Alec, man the ladder controls! Mike, get on the radio and have dispatch hit up Station Ten for their brush trucks and a backup tanker," he commanded with authority.

Not a second was wasted as each of the men jumped into action. Intense waves of heat and clouds of smoke bombarded them with each gust of wind, but they ignored the sweat beginning to drench their bodies, dripping down their faces and adding to the burning sensation in their eyes from the smoke. They worked together, efficiently and with the synchronicity of a single unit performing a task.

At least, Edward had thought they were until he looked up from where he'd been fastening a hose's coupler to the valve on the pumper, and he couldn't find his baby brother.

"Where's Emmett?" he breathed, his heart taking off at a frantic pace.

"_Where's Emmett_?" he roared as he ran toward the fire.

His pulse picked up triple-time, sweat pouring off his forehead as he moved straight toward the trees that were beginning to burst from the moisture within their trunks and branches boiling and expanding from the scorching heat — and spotted him through the flames engulfing the unidentifiable vehicle between them.

"Emmett!" he screamed, bolting for him with the knowledge that at any moment the hunk of metal could explode if the flames reached the fuel tank.

"Em, god damnit _move_!" he belted out as a mixture of sweat and tears slipped from his eyes, fear seizing his heart as he rammed full force into his little brother, launching both of them toward the trees at the exact moment the gas tank ignited.

The force of the explosion knocked them to the charred underbrush between the trees, tangled together as Edward shielded Emmett from the burst of flames that swallowed the rear of the vehicle before dissipating into a giant cloud of dense black smoke. Within seconds of landing on the ground, they were being soaked with a stream of water as their fellow crew members attacked the flames licking up the trunks of the trees surrounding them in an effort to keep the pair safe.

Edward rolled off of Emmett with a groan, his left shoulder and knee throbbing painfully from having landed on them, but gritted his teeth and moved to lift himself from the ground. Staying where they were just wasn't an option if they wished to remain unharmed. Once on his feet, he bent down to retrieve his brother's helmet - that _should_ have been fastened - and held a hand out to help him up. Emmett, however, ignored it and stalked off toward the trucks.

Edward released a deep breath, calming his frayed nerves and nodded once to no one in particular. At least neither of them had been seriously injured, he'd thought, knowing he'd borne the brunt of the impact himself as he brushed off the sooty bits of earth from Em's helmet.

"You alright, bro?" Alec hollered down to him, warily eyeing the way he was favoring his left leg.

"Fine...just need to walk it off," Edward answered with a wave of his hand, but failed to meet his gaze.

In all the years he'd known and worked with Edward, Alec had learned two things about him that never wavered; not even in the most intense of situations.

Edward loved his family unconditionally and loyally — and he never looked a person in the eyes when he lied.

"Newton! Get your ass up here and man the controls!" Alec bellowed, incensed. He wasn't even sure who he was more infuriated with in that moment, Edward for lying or Emmett for being the reason he'd gotten hurt in the first place and then just walking away from him.

The very moment Mike was on the platform, Alec flew off the truck and to his friend's side behind the pumper.

"What is it, man? I know when you're full of shit and hurtin'," he demanded, calling him out on his fallacy.

"My knee..._fuck_," Edward ground out through clenched teeth as he slammed the side of his fist into the back of the truck just as Station Ten along with two medic rigs pulled up on scene. Alec stormed off, waving down the medics and ignoring Edward's shouts of protest.

Edward, in a fit of anger, ripped his helmet off and threw it at Alec's retreating back before slumping down against the back of the truck, keeping the weight off his leg. A minute later, Alec and a medic were jogging toward him and he grudgingly accepted the inevitability that his part in this fight was done. As he began to remove his turnout gear, stripping down to his navy blue uniform, he listened half attentively to Alec's account of how he was injured, but his mind was miles away.

More like about thirty feet in physical distance to where Emmett stood, angrily attacking the smoking hunk of melted and scorched metal that could have taken his life had his brother not saved his ass — _again_. Where he'd disappeared to for ten straight minutes after storming away from him, Edward had no clue; nor did anyone else.

"Alec, enough, man. He gets it...we fell and I jammed my knee," Edward huffed, wanting nothing more than to go check on his brother.

"How's it goin', Edward?" Marcus asked with a bob of the head added to his greeting.

"Just fuckin' peachy," Edward responded with a wry grin.

"Ah come on...it could be worse," Marcus smirked, his voice saturated with a teasing tone. "He could have snagged Jessie from the other rig and she would have hauled you off to Tacoma General for no other reason than to spend forty minutes purposely botching IVs in your arm."

"I've already had enough piss in my Wheaties for one day. Please refrain from urinating on the lunch I haven't had yet, _thanks_," Edward retorted, rolling his eyes as his head thumped back against the truck.

"Alright, get a move on. I got all day to stand around but it's hotter than Hades out here so hike 'em up and let's see what we got goin' on," Marcus chuckled as he squatted down to the ground. He jokingly whistled out an obnoxious catcall as Edward tugged his pant leg up over his knee, but as hard as he tried to stifle it in his chest, Edward laughed. A little.

"Can ya bend it?" Marcus asked and Edward nodded as he did so, albeit painfully. When he lowered his leg back down, Marcus poked and prodded around it. "On a scale from one to ten, rate the pain when you bear weight on it."

"Three," Edward lied, looking down at his knee to avoid Marcus's eyes. He knew how his district's medics worked; pain level of three or under and you're in the clear to stay, four or five and they'd let you walk to the rig, six and above and you got rolled out on a stretcher.

"Solid six, Marcus! Don't let his ass fool ya! If he didn't look you in the eye, he lied!" Alec shouted from the aerial ladder control platform.

Twenty minutes of arguing with Marcus and attempting to convince him it was nothing more than a dull throb and that he was perfectly fine, had earned Edward nothing more than a glorified chauffer service to the local hospital - complete with swirling lights and sirens just to piss him off after having been loaded onto a stretcher, making him look like a man dying from a boo-boo to his knee-bone that his mother could have kissed and made better when he was _four_. He found it utterly ridiculous, but at least Marcus hadn't gone as far as torturing him by sending him off under Jessica's care. He could live the rest of his life without having another dramatic run in with that broad, he was positive of that.

"So what happened with you and Jess, if ya don't mind my askin'. You two were an item for a while back in the day weren't ya?" Marcus asked as he secured the IV in Edward's left arm with tape and a Tegaderm that was gonna smart like a bitch slap when he ripped it off in an hour or so. Edward knew first hand what both felt like — unfortunately.

"Yeah like two years ago and nothing happened aside from me breaking it off because I just couldn't see it going anywhere. There wasn't really anything more than friendship between us, well at least on my side...but even that bit the dust when she busted out all the windows on my car. It's nice to know she's still carrying a grudge though, even after I denied pressing charges for vandalism and destruction of property against her," Edward responded with dry sarcasm.

He wasn't about to go into how she tried beat the snot out of him when he charged her in his driveway, because Lord help him, if his mother hadn't taught him not to hit a woman he would have laid her out on the pavement after her second strike to his face. The first strike had caught him off guard, the second had her pinned in a restraint hold until the police arrived. She was just lucky she hadn't left a visible mark or she would have been hauled off for domestic violence regardless if he had pressed charges or not. His face had escaped her wrath, but his shins sure as hell hadn't.

He still had faint scars on his left leg to serve as a reminder of that psychotic encounter.

"So you saved your brother from an exploding gas tank, huh?" Marcus asked absently as he filled out paperwork regarding Edward's vitals, injuries, and an account of how they were obtained.

"Sorry, what?" Edward asked, his mind having drifted away momentarily.

"Your brother...you saved him from an exploding gas tank, in that car?" Marcus asked again, looking up from his paperwork with an assessing eye.

"Yeah, I guess. Just standing in the wrong spot at the wrong time," Edward sighed, leaning his head back against the stretcher and staring at the roof of the rig.

"Was this the same brother that got lost in his first real structure fire?" Marcus asked with a hint of amusement that instantly made Edward bristle.

"_No_," he growled without pause, "And that could have happened to _anyone_. You don't have to be a _rookie_ to lose your way in a labyrinth of unfamiliar hallways when you can't see a foot in front of your face."

Marcus's eyes widened as he heard the warning tone in Edward's voice and quickly issued a sincere apology. He'd heard of Edward's fiercely protective demeanor over his brothers, but until that moment, had never been on the receiving end of it. His apology, however, did virtually nothing subdue Edward's anger over the slight joke at his brother's expense.

"What is it with you some of you friggen medics thinking running into burning buildings is a game? Do you guys think we're in there playing around or some shit? A little game of hide and seek or Marco Polo whenever the opportunity presents itself? Do you guys ever laugh when a cop drops his gun and gets shot or gets into an accident when chasing a perp? This shit ain't funny, dickhead," Edward spewed vehemently. "We put our _lives_ on the line _every day _we step foot into our station house."

"I'm sorry, man. I didn't mean to poke fun, really," Marcus responded instantly, contrite and feeling like a cad over bringing it up to start with.

The remainder of the ride was tense and silent as Edward willed the medic up front to drive faster so he could get the hell back to the station house at some point before the end of the day. As he was rolled into the emergency room, his arms were crossed over his chest and his eyes were closed, not wanting to see all the familiar faces staring at him and wondering what happened to him. While they all played a game of "_Who's on second?_" trying to figure out which exam room to put him in, he felt like fish trapped in one of those tiny little bowls in the pet shop. A Japanese fighter fish in a potpourri dish just waiting for someone to come over and tap on the glass just to annoy him...

Or, more accurately, make him feel like a complete invalid by not allowing him to move onto the other stretcher himself and then shine megawatt beams of light into his eyes and ears even though he'd only hurt his _leg_. Take his temperature even though he wasn't sick. Take his blood pressure and question why it rose each time they took it again, seeing as how five times in ten minutes wasn't just a _wee bit _excessive considering the nature of his injury.

"So help me God if you even _think_ about cutting off my uniform I'll hop off this bed and gimp right out that damn door," he warned the nurse wielding the trauma shears just an inch off the hem of his pants.

"This is ridiculous," he groaned, sitting straight up in the bed and eyeing the dozen people in the confined room. "Hey, Peanut! Where are ya?" he hollered, receiving numerous questionable looks until Alice waltzed into the room with a slight smirk on her lips.

"You rang?"

"Can you _please_ clear this room out and find me just a single attending? Just _one_...that doesn't have half the University's med-program following them?" he pleaded, giving her the puppy eye and pout combo he'd learned from the master herself. She snickered as she shooed the flock of residents and nurses from the room and returned only a minute later with Dr. Regan.

"Christ, you guys sure do know how to make a person feel like a lab rat around here," Edward scoffed as Alice tried to suppress another snicker, leaning in to kiss his cheek and whisper in his ear.

"Jas called. I'll have you out of here in twenty tops, hun, and if you can hang tight for another ten after that, I can drop you off back at the station on my way home."

"Have I told you lately how much I _adore_ you?" he grinned at her, getting a wink before she closed the curtain behind her as she left him alone with the doc.

True to her word, twenty minutes and three x-rays later, he was sprung from the joint with a diagnosis of nothing more than a _possible_ strained ligament. They hand him a prescription for painkillers and muscle relaxants - which he promptly tore up and deposited in the trashcan on his way out to the waiting room.

"Ready?" Alice asked, peeking her head around the corner into the "waiting room of doom" as he'd come to refer to it over the years. It was probably the only place worse to sit and wait than even inside an exam room. At least the stretchers were padded.

"Been waitin' on you for _hours_, Peanut. What the hell took ya so long?" he joked as he pushed himself out of his chair and walked toward her stiffly. The pain in his knee had subsided to a dull throb at some point, but it still took him a few steps to acclimate himself to the irritating sensation.

Once beside her, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders as she wrapped one behind his back and patted it gently, leading him out of the hospital and toward her car. As they strolled slowly, he relished in the ease of his relationship with his sister in-law. Had she been a few years older when they'd met - and had not been brought home and introduced at dinner as his brother's girlfriend - he most likely would have asked her out on a date. Their friendship had always been an easy one, filled with laughter and understanding of one another. She was everything he could have asked for in someone to call his significant other, but, rather unfortunately, she was significantly taken by his brother.

"I want to thank you for what you did for Jasper...for us," she spoke finally, quietly as she watched their footsteps upon the concrete before looking up at him, "I'll pay you back as soon as I can, I promise."

"Peanut, I don't want your money," he sighed, draping his forearm over her shoulder. "If anyone should pay me back it's Jasper, not you. So I hear you kicked him out of the bedroom last night. Any truth to that rumor?" he joked, expecting her to smile and nod as she usually did and then burst into a tale of his over the top groveling — but she didn't.

Instead, her steps faltered and she dropped her purse on the ground as she stumbled forward just feet from her car. But it wasn't until she crouched down to retrieve her spilled belongings and froze with her hand on her tube of lip gloss upon the concrete that he knew last night had been much worse than Jasper had led him to believe.

"Alice," Edward sighed painfully as he lowered himself down to her level in time to see her attempt to stealthily swat her tears away. She gave him a meek smile as they gathered the rest of the spilled contents together. "Talk to me, Peanut. Why'd you really lock him out of the room this morning?"

"I didn't want him to know that..._God_," she croaked as her eyes darted around and another tear slipped from her eye. She made no move to swat it away, knowing full well he'd seen it. "I didn't want him to know that while he'd spent the night at the bar with Emmett and the guys...I...I spent the night packing all my stuff from the bedroom."

The breath that had been trapped in his chest left in a stuttering burst as he sat there unsure of what to say to her. Not once had Jasper mentioned any of this to him...not that he'd spoken to him much at all throughout the day for that matter either.

Her hazel eyes continued to flicker back and forth minutely, the only outward sign of the thousands of thoughts running through her mind as more tears trailed down her cheeks. He reached out and took a hold of her hand, rubbing his rough, calloused thumb across the back of her soft hand gently in a gesture of comfort as he waited patiently for her to process whatever it was she was working through in her mind. And when he saw the resolve set behind those familiar greenish and brown marbled eyes of hers as she looked back at him, his heart ached for the both of them.

"I can't do it anymore, Edward," she confided, her bottom lip and chin quivering.

"Peanut...I know you two can work it out. You still love him, right?" he questioned, giving her hand a slight squeeze.

"Yeah," she nodded, looking back down at the ground. "I love him...but not the way I used to, and not the way I need to for us to make it work."

"What changed?" he asked, standing because his knee was throbbing in that position and offering her a hand to help her up.

"Nothing...everything..._me_," she sighed as she leaned against the trunk of her car. "I don't know. I was only eighteen when we met and I thought he was exciting and adventurous. He made me laugh like crazy. I was smitten. Out of my mind for him, so we got married two years later and looking back...it was too soon because somewhere in the last four years, I grew up and he..." she trailed off, shaking her head and looking away as she swiped at another tear.

"Didn't," Edward finished, nodding his understanding of what she was talking about.

"We just...we're different people now than we were back then. We want different things and can't seem to find a middle ground between our desires..._ever_," she stressed her last word and even punctuated it with an aggravated splay of her hands.

"Give him some time, Alice. Everyone knows girls mature faster than boys...well some of 'em anyway," he chuckled, trying to lighten the atmosphere as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders again.

"It wouldn't matter if I did or didn't, Edward," she said softly, shaking her head again as he furrowed his brow at down at her. "It wouldn't matter because I'm in love with someone else and I've been blind not to have seen it for this long."

Her words had been addressed to the hood of a car across from them, leaving him at a complete loss of what to say as he turned his head and stared off into the distance — until he felt her lips at the corner of his jaw.

"_Shit_," he muttered, his eyes closing as he slowly extracted himself from her side and turned toward her. "Alleycat, don't," he whispered as he opened his eyes and took her hands in his own.

"Hurting you is the _last_ thing I'd ever want to do, please understand that. I love you and I always will regardless if you leave Jas or not, but even if you do...we can't...I can't be to you what you think you want me to be," he paused, letting go of one of her hands to thumb away a tear and move a lock of hair away from her eyes. "I can be your friend until the end of time, but that's it, honey. He's my brother and I could _never_ hurt him that way, the same way I could never hurt you by letting you believe there could be something more between us than what we already share."

"Okay? Friends 'til the end?" he asked as her eyes unleashed a torrent of tears, her chin quivering as she pressed her lips together between her teeth and nodded.

"_Hell_...c'mere, Peanut," he sighed, pulling her into his arms and wrapping her in them tightly as he rested his cheek atop her head.

"I'm sorry, honey. Really, I am. In another time or another life...things could have been different, but in this one...this is the best I can give you, both of you."

He held her until her tears subsided, rubbing her back soothingly and wishing he could shoulder the hurt she was feeling for her. She was the last person he ever wanted to see in so much pain, much less to have been one of the pair of people that caused her to feel it. She was his little Peanut, a nickname she'd earned by the devastating number of peanuts she'd devoured one night when she'd joined him at the bar for a hockey game that his brothers had left him hanging for.

"You okay?" he asked worriedly. She gave him an unconvincing smile, but nodded as she used the collar of her scrub top to wipe under her eyes and over her cheeks.

"Can we just...never speak of the last fifteen minutes of our lives ever again?" she chuckled in embarrassment.

"What fifteen minutes? I do believe the doc misdiagnosed my temporary amnesia as a possible strained ligament in my knee."

* * *

**A/N: Wow...you guys...GAH...you blew my mind. I've NEVER hurdled over the 100 review mark at the start line of a story hahaha. That was amazing...thank you all so much. **

**So a curious reader asked in a review as to why I chose to write this story in 3rd person rather than 1st as I've done with my other stories, and because they don't have an account...I'm gonna answer it here. It's really a 3-part reason why I chose the 3rd person perspective. **

**The first is that I've only ever tried to write that way for one-shots and I wanted to challenge myself by trying to complete a full story in that style. **

**The second is that 3rd person perspective allows me a ton of room in which to portray more than just the main characters without excessive dialogue...and for this story, it's **_**really **_**needed. **

**And the third, and most important, is that with the events that will be occurring in a future chapter and the ones following it, I **_**really**_** cannot delve deep into the mindsets of some of the characters. It'd be too hard, emotionally speaking, and frankly... impossible in some circumstances.**

**Anyways, enough of my long-winded babble. Reviews are rewarded with teasers...*winks* Let me tease ya...please? **


	4. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer__: Twilight character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. All intellectual properties associated with Through the Flames_ belong to SparklingTwilight. Plagiarism is theft. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization. Thank you.

* * *

The Imperfection of Man

Upon arriving back at the station house, Edward knew instantly that his crew was still at the scene of the car fire. Both the pumper and the aerial were still missing from their bays as Alice had pulled into the parking lot and shut off the engine. The ride back had been awkward at best, neither really knowing what to say to one another, but Edward was hesitant to exit the car and leave the foreign tension unsettled between them. She'd been his friend and part of his family for far too long to allow a simple mistake to drive a wedge between them.

He rested back against the headrest and turned his head to see her looking down, inspecting her nails and pursing her lips to the side as she gnawed on the inside of her cheek.

"Hey," he whispered, shifting to bump her shoulder with his own, getting her to look over at him. He quirked a half smile and tapped his temple, "Temporary amnesia, remember?"

She laughed lightly, short bursts of nearly silent air through her nose as she nodded to him, "Thanks, Edward."

"It'll all be alright, Peanut. Trust me on this one, kay?"

He held his arms out for her as he awkwardly turned toward her in the confined area of the front seat of the car. He rubbed her back as her face pressed against his shoulder and offered her the only words of advice he could think of in the moment.

"Listen, move out if you need to. A little time apart from one another might be all you two need to figure things out. Just don't give up on him until you're absolutely certain you need to. I love my brother and I want him to be happy, but your happiness means just as much to me, so if he's incapable of being what you need, then I want you to find the person who is."

He worried for her. Things between her and his brother hadn't been ideal for close to two years now, so it wasn't really a surprise that she'd reached the point where she wanted out, but it was sad that it had come to that. His mother was going be heartbroken over the news for she loved Alice and Rosalie as though they were her own daughters — even though there was no love lost at all between his brothers' wives.

It was kind of ironic that Jasper and Emmett were more like best friends than brothers, and yet, they married two women that were practically mortal enemies of one another. It made for quite interesting holiday gatherings, as that was the only time you could force them to tolerate each other for any length of time. They'd been complete polar opposites of one another from the get go, but now they were even more so.

"You're still coming to the cookout next Saturday, right?" he asked, hoping she would be. She always made the random gatherings bearable, not to mention she played the part of deflector shield for him when it came to the women his mother invited because she "coincidentally" ran into their mothers at an ever changing array of locations. He wasn't dumb, he knew she was trying to set him up. He just wished she wouldn't because it was entirely too awkward for him since he'd known most of them from high school, and he had no more interest in them now than he had back then.

"And miss out on shooting Emmett in the ass with a paintball gun? Not in this lifetime," she chuckled as she quirked a brow at him.

"Alright," he grinned, holding his fist out toward her. He'd never been one for the whole "fist bump" gesture, but after the twenty minute rant Peanut had gone on once upon a time over how ridiculous it was, he'd used it routinely as his farewell to her. "I'll see ya Saturday if not before then."

She rolled her eyes at him, unable to keep her lips from turning up into a smile as she bumped his fist with her own; one up, one down, and one knuckles to knuckles, all the while thinking how _junior high _it was. He was the only one who'd ever be able to get her to do it, but she loved that it was something they shared only with each other and no one else.

Alice watched as he got out of her car and walked stiffly toward the side entrance to the firehouse. Once he had the door open, she started the car and returned his two fingered salute with a wave before pulling away, heading back to her and Jasper's apartment to finish packing. While she was saddened that she and Edward could never be more than just friends, she understood his reasons and was grateful for the relationship they shared. She'd rather have him as just a friend, a best friend even, than not having him in her life at all.

Still, she couldn't help but wish that she'd met him first. Maybe, just maybe, if they had, maybe they'd have both found happiness. At the end of the day, the only thing in her life she was certain of anymore, was that whoever managed to steal Edward's heart, would be one _very_ lucky woman.

Back at the station house, Edward walked in just in time to hear station 10 clearing themselves from the scene to dispatch. Figuring there was no sense in driving back out there when his crew would be leaving the scene soon as well, he instead busied himself with tidying up the kitchen that the guys had destroyed earlier that morning. While doing the dishes, he had to chuckle at the sign Carlisle had stuck above the sink years ago that read, "Your wives/girlfriends/mothers don't work here. If you make a mess, clean it. Sincerely, The Nonexistent Maid."

With everything tidied up in the house, he threw a quick dinner together for the guys and tossed it in the oven before heading into the lounge to take a load off and ice down his knee. Throwing his foot up on the coffee table and tugging his pant leg up over his knee, he groaned as he saw that it had swollen up a bit more and grimaced as he dropped the bag of ice over it.

"_Perfect_," he grumbled to himself as his head fell back against the cushion of the couch. Hurting himself on the first leg of a forty-eight, possibly seventy-two, hour shift was _not _the way he'd foreseen this day going when he'd woken up. Not fifteen minutes later did he hear the bay doors opening and the trucks beginning to back into their slots. With any luck, they'd all be able to shovel down some grub before another call came in.

"Felix get your damn hands off me...Get over here you little fuckin' shit! I'm not done with you yet!"

"Alec back off..."

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" *_thump* _"Your goddamn brother puts his own life at risk to save your sorry ass and you can't even find it in you to give a shit if he's hurt?"

Edward was already up and off the couch by the time he'd heard Felix warning Alec to back off and was nearly sprinting toward the far end of the bay where the voices were coming from. It hurt like hell, sharp pains shooting through his knee and down his shin making him stagger and hop on his good leg to keep his pace up. He'd nearly made it to the back of the pumper when he heard the unmistakable sound of a fist connecting with a body amidst the shouting - the shouting that escalated right afterward along with the scuffling of at least two full-grown men going at it with everything they had in them.

"ENOUGH!" Edward hollered, rounding the back of the pumper truck and throwing the weight of his entire body in between his brother and best friend — which turned out to be the worst move he could have ever made when something connected with his already jacked up knee, _hard. _"Jesus Christ!"

His teeth gritted together as he slammed his forehead and fist into the side of the aerial, his eyes clenched against the pain and deep breaths hissing from his flared nostrils.

"Yeah...that's right jackass! Walk away again ya little shit!"

"Alec..." Edward panted, his eyes watering of their own volition from the searing pain in his knee. "I'm only gonna say this once. Touch him again and it'll be you and me tearing this place apart."

Alec fisted his hands in his hair, trying to rein in his boiling rage. As the red haze began to fade, he realized what he'd done and his body sagged with the weight of it as his arms fell to his sides.

"Edward...you _know _I didn't mean to hit him. It's just...the way he treats you pisses me the fuck off."

"I know," Edward muttered, tapping his forehead against the side of the truck repetitively. The pain in his knee wasn't fading; it was getting _worse_. It was almost like someone had jammed a red hot iron poker right into the joint.

"Edward?" Jasper broached worriedly, realizing something was off with his brother. When he'd spoken to Alice on their way back to the station, she'd said he was fine, but he didn't look it. Not at all. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, go check on dinner in the oven."

Edward had tried to keep his voice steady, but his rapid shallow breaths had made it impossible and now Jasper _definitely _knew something was wrong.

"Ed..."

"_Go_," Edward barked, cutting him off completely.

Jasper looked around at the few guys standing with them, wanting someone to give him an answer if they knew what was wrong. The problem was, no one did.

"Come on, Jas," Felix urged, giving him a slight shove toward the kitchen. "Let's go guys. Give him some breathing room."

Edward listened to their retreating steps and only when he knew they'd passed the back of the pumper did he turn and slide down to the floor, stretching his injured leg out in front of him as he took deep gasping breaths.

"You fucked your leg up bad, didn't you?" Alec sighed, crouching down to the ground beside him. Edward ran his hands over his face roughly to keep from lashing out. His patience and tolerance for stupidity had reached its limit for the day, and with one glacial glare from him, Alec knew it.

"It wasn't bad until one of you fuckers jacked it up even worse a minute ago."

"Dude, I'm sorry, but that bullshit back there at the scene crossed the line. We're all brothers in this house, blood or no blood. Everyone there knew you were hurt and he _still _turned his back on you. That shit's fucked up, man."

Edward released a heavy breath, shaking his head slightly as he looked up into the fluorescent lights hanging from the garage bay ceiling. He knew it was messed up, but he also knew his brother like the back of his hand; and how onlookers would interpret Emmett's actions, was a complete one-eighty of the real meaning of them.

For years, Emmett had been trying to live up to the skewed vision he held of his eldest brother. He idolized him, viewed him as some kind of hero when he was anything but. He was just an everyday average Joe Schmoe, but Emmett hadn't been able to see him that way since he was twelve years old.

Ten years ago, Emmett had run outside before school to grab the paper for their father and spotted Edward on the front page, drenched in sweat and covered in dirt and soot. In his arms, tucked safely and securely away in his turncoat, was Emmett's then best friend, Sean. Behind them stood the barely still standing house Sean had lived in, completely engulfed in flames.

At nineteen, a dry footed rookie with more courage than half the men in his squad, became his little brother's hero.

Edward wished Emmett could understand that what he'd done hadn't made him a hero, it just made him a firefighter. The only thing he'd done that night was his job, and with a stroke of luck and a guardian angel on his shoulder, he'd succeeded. He'd hoped that once Emmett joined him in the field he'd begin to understand, but thus far — hadn't.

"Just help me up, will ya?" Edward huffed, tired and just — well _tired_. Of everything.

Alec swung Edward's arm over his shoulder and helped pull him up off the ground, and with his instruction, helped him hobble his way up the stairs and into the sleeping quarters. The both froze momentarily upon seeing Emmett sprawled out across his bunk with his pillow over his head, but shook it off and continued forward toward Edward's customary one.

"I'll go grab ya a bag of ice," Alec nodded as Edward sank down onto the side of the mattress, looking between the brothers just once. He paused a few steps away from Emmett and warred with himself for a moment before clearing his throat as he rubbed his hand over his mouth, tugging at his bottom lip as his hand withdrew.

"Emmett, I'm sorry...I shouldn't have hit you like that."

The only acknowledgement he received was a two fingered salute, cast away from the pillow covering his face, but that was all that was needed. Had Emmett not been willing to let it go, it would have been a single fingered one of the middle variety.

The room remained silent after Alec's departure and Edward shifted on the bed, both to ease his discomfort as well as turn toward his brother.

"Em," he sighed, not really sure what to say to ease the tension between them. The damn tension that had been mounting steadily throughout the day.

"Don't...just fuckin'..._don't_," he snapped, jumping out of the bed and pacing rapid short lines across the flooring. A surge of rage ignited in Edward's blood the second he spotted the corner of Emmett's eye where Alec had clocked him and he seriously considered giving him a matching one when he returned with that bag of ice.

"I know what you're gonna say, so save it. '_What were you thinking, Em? You shouldn't have been standing there, Emmett. You know damn well that car could have exploded at any second._'..." he ranted as he burned a five foot trail in the cheap industrial carpet.

"Em..."

"And I _do_ knowbetter than that, but I really thought, with how torched the body was already, that it had already ignited..."

"Emmett..."

"And I was only back there to try to see if the stupid license plate hadn't been completely destroyed yet so the cops would have something to go by to track down the owners of the car, and yeah, it was fuckin' stupid and I should have waited, but I didn't, and once again I put myself in the wrong place at the wrong time and had to be saved by my fuckin' brother who's never made a mistake in his _entire fucking life_..."

"Emmett! Will you put a goddamn cork in it already?" Edward hollered, not wanting to hear any more complete _bullshit_ spew out of his mouth.

"Why? Did I leave something out?" he spat as he halted his steps. "Did I miss some fuck up of epic proportions that I made and you need to rip me a new asshole for?"

"Are you okay?"

"...What?" Emmett questioned, bewildered and looking around the room as though he'd missed something significant in the last five minutes.

"Are. You. Okay?" Edward repeated slowly, enunciating each word purposely.

"I'm fine...why?" he asked, still entirely lost and getting more so by the second.

"That's all I wanted to know."

And with that, Edward tossed his other leg up on the bed and flopped his torso down onto the mattress. A minute later Alec returned with the bag of ice and Edward had to mentally question whether or not he'd been standing outside the door, waiting for an audible sign that it was safe to enter — not that it mattered. Over the years Alec had borne witness to more sibling showdowns than the men in the room could collectively count.

"Damn, bro," Alec muttered, his step faltering at the sight of Emmett's eye. "I'm _really_..."

"It's fine," Emmett waived him off, not really giving a damn about it. As far as he was concerned, he'd more than earned it and had had no real intentions of blocking it when he saw it coming. There wouldn't have even been a brawl to speak of if he hadn't lost his cool when Alec pushed him afterward and implied that he wouldn't have given a shit if Edward had died while trying to get to him.

That implication had enraged him because he'd replayed the incident over and over again in slow motion in his head after storming away, and each time he was left with the same vision that had slammed into his brain when they'd collided with the ground. Alec's words had hit him straight in the gut with the force of a freight train because it had almost happened.

His brother had almost died while trying to save him.

He'd played the scene back in his mind so many times that he was able to count the seconds between the moment Edward tackled him and when the fuel tank exploded.

Three seconds.

_Three seconds _was how close his brother had come to sacrificing his life for his own. Just a difference of three stupid, miraculous seconds. Had he been running slower or not taken off when he had, he would have been right beside the fuel tank itself when it exploded, and the ball of flames would have swallowed his brother entirely.

It was _that _image that had been seared into his brain upon impact with the ground. It was the reason he'd stormed away; because looking at his brother, alive and in one piece standing in front of him, and _knowing_ how close he'd come to having not been - it caused his stomach send a wave of bile straight up his throat. Once he'd passed the truck, he'd staggered into the trees and thrown up, nearly choking on his own vomit when violent sobs began tearing through his chest.

The throbbing at the corner of his eye was _nothing _compared to the anguish that image continued to cause him.

"Alec...out," Edward ordered, rolling on his side to snatch the bag of ice from his hand. He nodded once before heading out and shutting the door behind him, already knowing to tell the guys downstairs to steer clear of their bunks for a while after having heard the end tail of Emmett's rambling when he'd come back up the stairs.

Edward eyed his brother wearily for a minute before sighing and shaking his head. "Em...you've _got _to let go of this ridiculous belief that I'm infallible, that I _never _make mistakes...because I _do_. I've made wrong decisions before that have put me in the wrong places at the wrong times. I can't even _begin_ to tell you how many times someone else has had to put themselves at risk to keep me from getting hurt."

Emmett just looked at him incredulously, pursing his lips as his left brow lifted subtly. Edward bit back a groan and sighed exasperatedly. "Sit down."

He waited for Emmett to take the few steps to the bed next to his and lower himself down on the edge of it before speaking, "Do you remember hearing about Fitz being pinned by a support beam that collapsed in a warehouse fire when you were still in the academy?"

"Yeah, I remember seeing the building and all the smoke from the top of the training tower while running drills," he answered, nodding just once.

"That should have been _me_ pinned under it. We'd gone in after it looked like the fire had been put out to make sure there was nothing inside still smoldering and capable of igniting it again. I'd been exhausted and Dad had been riding my ass all night long to keep my head on straight. I was irritated and distracted by my desire to just get the hell out of there and get some sleep and I wasn't paying attention to a single thing around me. Not _once_ did I ever bother to look above the spot I was standing in and by the time I heard the beam break free, I was _screwed_."

He paused, running his hand through his hair as he stared at the ceiling, remembering that day like it had just happened yesterday and not nearly four years ago. He could still see the metal beam cutting through the hazy smoke in the room and speeding toward him. His eyes closed for a moment before focusing on Emmett.

"If Fitz hadn't seen it coming, I would have been a goner because it would have landed right on my head instead of his leg when he sacked me," he confided, his eyes imploring Emmett to see that he's just as capable of making stupid mistakes as anyone else.

"I made a mistake that day that could have cost me my life, but because he did what any one of us would do for another, I'm still alive while he's walking around with a prosthetic leg," he said, feeling his throat begin to close up. "I made a completely avoidable mistake that altered a man's entire life in just the blink of an eye, and there's _nothing_ I can do to change it. The only thing I can do is keep the knowledge of what my fuck up did to someone else in the forefront of my mind every time I step foot onto a scene so that I _never_ repeat that same mistake again."

Emmett remembered hearing about the accident that took the veteran officer's leg and how it spurred their instructors into running training simulations on how to sweep buildings safely. They'd spent an entire day having it drilled into their heads to do continuous floor to ceiling sweeps as they moved through enclosed structures.

"You can't blame yourself for that, Edward," Emmett argued, shaking his head. "Shit like that can happen at any time and without warning."

"Yeah, it can...but if I would have looked up at _any point _that I'd been standing there like an idiot, I would have seen the beam dangling above me and barely hanging on the way Fitz had."

It hadn't been the only time Edward had ever made a mistake, but it _had _been the one with the most severe consequences and, subsequently, the one capable of proving to his brother that he was far from being the perfect hero he'd been falsely romanticizing him to be for half his life. Edward was human, he'd made mistakes in the past and undoubtedly would again in the future.

"Em, we come to work knowing that any call we head out on can be our last. It doesn't take a lapse in judgment to put us in danger, but it _does_ take making stupid mistakes like I did back then and you did today tomake us more vulnerable to the dangers that we willingly surround ourselves with," he stressed firmly.

"I get it, I get it...no more standing within feet of a flaming shit box," Emmett nodded, the corner of his lips turning up in the trademark crooked Cullen grin as he avoided his brother's gaze.

An awkward tension settled between the men as neither knew what more to say in the moment. Emmett shifted on the bed in discomfort as Edward turned his head to stare at the grid ceiling's pocked panels. Minutes passed in silence between them but sounds from the lower level of the station house kept the quietness from creating that annoying faint ringing in their ears that can only be heard in completely empty air.

"So..." Em surrendered to his discomfort, pausing to clear his throat before asking the question he should have hours ago, "How's the knee?"

"Hurts like a son of a gun," Edward smirked and turned his mossy gaze toward him, "I think that ground may have been even harder than that concrete head of yours."

And with that teasing jab, they laughed and all the bullshit from the first half of their shift was swept under the rug.

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**A/N****: You guys seriously just amaze me. AH-MAZE me...really ^_^ As always, lemme know what you thought. Hopefully this chapter explained a little of Emmett's seemingly uncalled for reactions. Reviews get sneak peeks at next chapter so clicky the button...*sings* You know you want to.**


	5. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Twilight character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. All intellectual properties associated with _Through the Flames_ belong to SparklingTwilight. Plagiarism is theft. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization. Thank you.

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The Devil's Muse

One fifty nine am found the station house and the men held within deep in slumber. From outside on the street the building would appear to be vacant, not a single source of light spilling out into the night from the pitch black windows. On the inside, however, a stream of moonlight filters in, focusing its illumination on the station's fire and EMS scanner. Its lights flickered in a rapid continuous succession of green and occasionally one or two yellow dots, dependent upon the volume of the static over the empty airwaves.

Upstairs, ten men and two dogs laid upon their beds unknowingly conducting a symphony of snores and deep, heavy breathing. Should a person unfamiliar of their way of life happen upon them, the sounds reverberating throughout the second story room would unquestionably be thought of as an irritating ruckus, capable of driving even the sanest of sane to the brink of insanity in the event of prolonged exposure to it. But to one of their own, it would only invoke a sense of peaceful calm — simply because it meant their night had been a quiet one.

A peaceful calm that shattered as the minute hand of the clock above the plasma screen TV in the lounge struck the twelve and the arrival of precisely two am brought along with it the deafening shrill of the station's old fashioned red metal alarm.

As the sleeping men were ripped from their peaceful slumber and began jumping from their beds and jamming their feet into their boots, the radios they've left on their shelved headboards squawked a series of tones followed by a woman's voice relaying a combination of numbers and letters only they and EMS would understand. The combinations gave them their destination and are followed by the description of the scene given to the dispatcher by the informant who had dialed 911.

The men picked up their pace, following behind the dogs down the stairs as more details flow through the speakers of their radios, alerting them to the urgency of the call and to the awareness that they have not a moment to spare because it isn't just a typical middle of the night call for assistance in a motor vehicle collision or a possible carbon monoxide leak. It's an already out of control structural fire in a residential apartment building; a five alarm fire that's hit out the three stations within the closest proximity to it and necessitating each station's aerial ladder trucks and back-up tankers. It's a fire so severe and intense that within their squadron, it's been given it's own name.

"It's time to dance with the Devil's Muse, boys," Edward called out, thrusting his suspenders over his shoulders and ripping his turnout coat and helmet out of his section in the dual row of lockers running the length of the middle of the truck bay.

_The Devil's Muse_. It got its name from its sinister nature. Edward himself had only ever experienced the likes of it four times in his decade long career. His father told him time and again of his dances with her over the years, but never, not even for a moment, had he ever believed in the impossibility of some of the things he'd described. For the entire four years of his high school experience he'd questioned his father's sanity.

He stopped questioning it the first time he ever danced with her.

"How's the knee? You gonna be able to handle this?" Alec yelled over the wails of the sirens back to Edward from the front seat as Felix barreled the nearly fifty foot long vehicle down the virtually empty streets.

Edward locked his eyes with Jasper's as he pushed his fumbling hands out of the way and affixed the collar of his turncoat for him. "We'll be fine," he hollered back, not breaking his gaze and speaking more to Jasper than to Alec, because in this moment, he needed more than just the silent reassurances Edward provided him when in need.

Jasper needed more because the first, and _only_, time he'd ever danced with the Devil's Muse, she'd led and he'd followed flawlessly right into her clutches.

Nine years ago, Edward had almost made the same mistakes, allowing her to lead him in confusing circles while luring him further and further into the inescapable confines of Hell's domain on Earth. It was a game she played with you in large buildings with more than one stairwell — but only one exit.

Tricky prankster she is, using her flaming fingers to twist around corners and steer you away from the path to your freedom. And once she has you turned around, she traps you in a blinding shroud of swirling, asphyxiating smoke that only the crackling and popping sounds of her laughter can penetrate.

But Edward had long ago learned the steps to her seductive dance. He held the key to the shackles she attempts to bind you with in the knowledge of how to escape her playground.

The only way out — is _through_ the flames.

The truck hadn't even come to a full stop before Edward was hopping out of the cab. He'd seen his father's department issued maroon Expedition from halfway down the block; its spinning strobe lights creating a dizzying carousel of flashing colors in the dense smoke creeping across the ground and hanging seemingly motionless in the air. As Edward's crew exited their trucks hastily and began unrolling lines with practiced ease, working in teams of three's to get their hoses flowing with water quickly, he strode in his father's direction. The throbbing pain in his knee from earlier had dulled to a mild annoyance by the flood of adrenaline coursing through his veins.

"What have ya got?" he inquired loudly, Tango heeling loyally at his side as Cash took his place beside Carlisle.

"One of the residents said they were awoken by an explosion that shook the building," Carlisle shouted, pointing at the building that had flames and columns of pitch black smoke spilling out of the broken windows on the first and second floors. "At this point, I'm speculating there was a gas leak, but P.D. is questioning arson."

"Is everyone out of the building?" he asked, because at that point it was the only thing left that mattered aside from keeping it from spreading to other nearby structures. The building was already destroyed and quickly being devoured.

"No one's reported anyone missing, so I'm assuming it's vacant. We'll do a sweep as soon as we get the..."

Edward's focus on his father's words was cut off by the sound of a woman screaming. His head shot to the side to see a short blonde haired woman running down the sidewalk in a disco-ball looking mini dress and heels of death enticing heights.

"Bella!" she screamed, jumping to try and see through the crowd of onlookers to find who she was looking for. Just feet behind her was another woman running in yet another barely there dress and pair of death trap heels. "Bella, where are you?"

The hair on the back of Edward's neck began to stand on end as he looked between the frantic women and the burning building. His feet automatically began moving as they pushed their way through the crowd, still not finding the person they were calling out for. The moment he recognized the look on their faces as they looked up at the second story of the inferno and the blonde in silver collapsed to the ground with a bloodcurdling scream, he was in motion.

"Edward!" his father yelled as he ran to the truck and pushed the panel door up to the compartment that housed their SCBA tanks and masks.

Fearing the moments he'd already wasted, he tossed the gear on as he ran toward the building's glowing entrance, hearing almost nothing but the pounding of blood in his ears and the rumble of the flames sucking up the air, fueling them and creating vortexes of blistering heat.

"Edward! Are you crazy?" his father roared, stepping in his path.

"There's someone trapped in there! I'm going in!"

"NO! I'm _ordering _you to stay put until they get that water flowing!" Carlisle commanded, trying to verbally and physically stop his son from embarking on a suicide mission.

Horrific fear shot through his system as Edward ripped himself out of his father's hold and ran straight for the entrance, mask still in hand as he thread his arm through the second air pack shoulder strap and disappeared into the smoke and flames.

"Get that water going NOW!" Carlisle screamed, running toward the trucks.

The heat and lack of oxygen just inside the doorway took Edward's breath away as he kept moving forward with purpose, ripping his helmet off to affix his mask to his face. The first floor of the building was a mix of blinding light and floating hunks of ash that twirled in the swirling waves of heat. He could taste the ash and soot in his mouth; bone dry burnt dirt.

Sweat had begun pouring down his face, steaming the inside of his mask and further incapacitating his vision in the flickering smoky hall. Movement on the periphery of his vision that had resembled a hand coming around a doorway nearly had him moving toward it, but as his head turned, he caught the last remnants of the Muse's tendril-like fingertips disappearing against a charred wall.

"Not today you wicked bitch...gonna have to play smarter than that," he breathed, her response coming instantly by way of a loud series of angry bursts and hisses and the booming echo of falling debris.

"Edward! Get your ass outta there! The foundation's not gonna hold!" Carlisle's voice shot through the radio, panic flooding his tone.

He grabbed a hold of his receiver strapped to his coat and held the button down with his thumb. "Not yet, Chief...I'm Tango-in' in here."

"You keep dancin' with her and you're gonna Cash your last check! Get out of there now!" he commanded fiercely.

Even with as dangerous a situation he was standing in, he couldn't help but chuckle under his breath at how he and Alec's dogs got their names. Tango n' Cash — dance with the Devil's Muse and cash your last check. In the only six fires of this caliber their city had seen since the start of his career, she'd claimed the lives of three men. Three men who'd been both brave and stupid enough to attempt to conquer the stage she dominated masterfully.

And in that moment, as a series of moisture droplets trailed down his mask's shield, he spotted the rear stairwell in the clear trails.

"Take your bow, bitch. This dance is almost over," he breathed again, sweeping his surroundings entirely from floor to ceiling as he placed his foot on the first step.

Outside, Carlisle watched on helplessly as the building disappeared behind walls of smoke and flames, the now powerful streams of water flowing from three different directions not doing a damn thing to tame the demon's rage.

"Get as much water inside as you can! He's gotta have clear passageways!" he ordered with passion only a father whose first born's life was in grave danger could ever possess.

"One of these days, Edward...you'll be the death of me," Carlisle whispered to himself as he began to recite a silent prayer for his son's safe return. Tango heeled beside him, whining mournfully and inching his way closer to the building, closer to his master, with every passing minute.

Back inside the building, Edward paused on the stairwell, hearing the familiar moans and claps of the Muse's desires coming to fruition.

"Don't do it," he warned her, hearing another sinister groan and the clatter of more falling debris reverberating through the structure as he cleared the last step. "You can have the building but you can't have the girl."

"Someone find out what apartment she lives in!" he shouted into his radio.

One glimpse around the landing told him he had no time left. The entire second floor hallway was a blackout, leaving him unable to see even a foot in front of his face. Closing his eyes, he relied on his gloved hands and careful steps to guide his way. Feeling the peeling away, warped molding of the first apartment doorway, he searched blindly for the doorknob and upon finding it, pressed his back against the wall beside it.

With every ounce of strength in his body, he rammed the edge of the door with the back of his arm and elbow and spun to the side instantly to protect himself from the possible surge of flames. The doorjamb, weakened by the intense heat and licks of flames, gave way easily and granted him access to the destroyed apartment still ablaze within. By the light of the flames, he quickly cleared the main front rooms and kitchen area before heading down the hall toward the bedrooms.

"Bella! Can you hear me?" he shouted, sweeping his flashlight in steady lines across the floors, furniture, and ceiling; always conscious of his own safety while maintaining his search.

"For fuck's sake! Someone find out what goddamn apartment she lives in!" he shouted into his radio again before realizing that he hadn't heard a single thing over it for at least five minutes.

Standing on the second level of a crumbling building, he found himself at the crossroad of every fireman's worst nightmare, and at that very moment, _both_ of their lives depended on his decision. Save himself while he still could, or continue his search and likely sacrifice his own life while trying to save hers.

And in an instant, as he made his way back toward the apartment entrance, voices of his friends and loved ones bombarded his mind.

"_We're not heroes, man. We do what we can but we can't save em all."_ - Alec.

"_Every person we search for is someone's child, sibling, friend, or loved one. Their lives are just as significant as our own." _- his father.

"_At the end of the day, it's not about whether we succeed or fail...it's about how hard we fight to do what's right." _- Felix

"_Promise me that every call you respond to, you do __**everything **__in your power to return home in one piece."_ - his mother the day he graduated the fire academy.

"_The only difference between bravery and stupidity is a single degree of common sense. A brave man runs into a burning building to rescue someone. A stupid man __**stays**__ inside a burning building when everything surrounding him is screaming warnings to get the hell out. So which are you, Edward? Brave or stupid?" _- Sergeant Tilton after disregarding his orders and running back into a collapsing building to find his brother.

"Fuck me...I'm stupid," he muttered, stepping back into the hallway and knowing the decision had been made before he'd even ever entered the building.

It had never been a decision he'd ever have to make because it was just who he _was_ all the way down to his bones. The choice had been made the day he'd been conceived. The ability to concede defeat had never been coded and sequenced into his genetic makeup. It was probably in some half a chromosome he was missing, because in that moment, he was damn certain he lacked a single _shred_ of common sense whatsoever.

"Bella! If you can hear me, yell back to me!" he shouted as he felt his way through the pitch black hallway. Just feet from the door he'd just exited the dense smoke smothered the flickering light he'd been able to use inside the apartment.

Edward's heart hammered away in his chest as the building rumbled out another one of the Muse's moans — only this one had gooseflesh spreading across his entire body and chills running down his spine. The combination of the moan and eerie creaking of the foundation beginning to give way transformed in his mind to the image of a woman of unnatural beauty with flames flickering in the reflection of her dark eyes, humming in pleasure and cackling as she tasted his demise on the tip of her finger.

He was within her reach and she knew it.

His mind began to get fuzzy as his vision faded in and out of focus, barely able to make out the glow of his flashlight's beam. The heat and fear were beginning to overwhelm him. He could feel the end drawing near, but he was still far from giving into defeat as his mind automatically began chanting a familiar prayer.

It was the prayer that his mother had hung above the front door of his childhood home, and had since hung one above each of her son's front doors. It was also the poem engraved on a plaque that hung in the center of the conference room's main wall, surrounded by rectangle brass plates with the names of their fallen brothers and the dates they'd responded to their last calls.

_When I am called to duty, God_

_Wherever flames may rage_

_Give me strength to save a life_

_Whatever be its age._

His hand found the second doorknob and he once again broke through the doorway, ever mindful to shield himself from sudden bursts of her fickle wrath. Unlike the first apartment, this one was just as pitch black as the hallway; filled to the brim from floor to ceiling with the toxic sooty fumes.

_Let me embrace a little child_

_Before it is too late_

_Or save an older person from_

_The horror of that fate._

"Bella!" he yelled, squatting down low and making slow sweeps with his practically useless flashlight. His flashlight dropped out of his hand and onto the floor as his heart lurched into his throat when the floor shook beneath his feet.

_Enable me to be alert_

_And hear the weakest shout_

_And to quickly and efficiently_

_Put the fire out._

"ED...RD! AN...R ME!" his radio crackled to life.

"Quit fucking with me you wicked bitch!" he roared into the blackness, sweat pouring down his face and neck as his hand shook on its path to his receiver.

"What apartment does she live in?" he hollered into the radio.

"GE..OU...THERE...NO..! THA...S'AN...RDER!"

"What fucking apartment does she live in?"

"YOU DON...AVE...TIME!" his father's voice wailed through the speaker.

"JUST FUCKING TELL ME BACK OR FRONT, NOW!" Edward exploded, as the floor shook beneath his feet once more.

"..ACK..IN THE BACK!"

_I want to fill my calling_

_To give the best in me_

_To guard my friend and neighbor_

_And protect their property._

Edward tightened his hold on his flashlight and stood from his kneeling position on the floor. His heart was racing so fast he couldn't even feel the beats, it was just a constant thrum against his chest and the sides of his neck as he resumed his half crouched position and began making his way through the apartment.

His time was running out too quickly, like the last grains of sand in an hourglass.

_And, if, according to your will_

_I have to lose my life_

_Please bless, with your protecting hand_

_My family and my wife_

He cleared the front rooms to the best of his ability in the blinding conditions, yelling out Bella's name over and over again as he moved through the apartment. The continuous chant of the _Fireman's Prayer_ the only thing keeping his sanity intact and fear at bay as the Muse taunted him relentlessly, her sinister laugh comprised of roaring hisses and deafening claps mocking him at every empty turn.

_When I am called to duty, God_

_Wherever flames may rage_

_Give me strength to save a life_

_Whatever be its age._

He searched every inch he could find in the single bedroom and found nothing. His fear was mounting exponentially with every passing second as he turned back toward the bedroom door and allowed his feet to retrace the course he'd traveled back toward the living room and the apartment door.

Flames had begun to lick their way down the hall, slithering against and climbing the already blackened with soot walls of the inside of the apartment. But while the sight would stop the hearts of even some of the most fearless men alive, amidst the most dire of circumstances and in the almost nonexistent flash of a moment, a single flame sent a surge of hope through his veins.

Because that briefest flicker of light allowed him to see what his flashlight hadn't.

A hand.

"Bella!" he hollered, striding forward a few steps before dropping to the ground and searching for the hand he was _positive_ he'd seen. His hands moved in wide arcs as he crawled, his flashlight held beneath the palm of his right hand as it scraped against the warped wooden floor, and finally, _finally_, he found her.

He quickly tore off his gloves and pressed his fingers against the side of her throat. Panic shook his entire frame as he felt a pulse so faint he almost had to question if it was his own and she no longer had one. Had it not been beating so slowly while his was racing frantically against his chest, he would have assumed he'd been too late.

"Hang on sweetie, hang on," he pleaded, hoping she could somehow hear him as he ripped his helmet and mask off, coughing instantly from the dense smoke filling the apartment. "Don't you _dare_ give up on me now. I didn't come this fuckin' far to let you go."

Edward turned her head and brushed her hair away from her face before pressing his mask against it to give her fresh oxygen as he shed the air pack from his back and tore off his turncoat. As quickly as he could manage while choking on the dry searing soot infiltrating his lungs, he resituated the air pack on his back and wrapped her in his turncoat to protect her from the flames he knew they'd be crossing on the way to their salvation.

As he hoisted her up into his arms, a terrifying boom rocked the building.

"You can't fucking have her!" he screamed at the Muse, adjusting her in his arms so he could reach his radio on his turncoat.

"I've got her. I'm on my way out. Have medics ready."

"Stay with me, Bella...you can do this, just stay with me," he spoke to her unconscious form in his arms. He was no longer sure if it was to comfort her or himself with the increasing frequency of foundation tremors, echoes of falling debris that he was sure by now were parts of ceilings caving in from the weight of the water being unleashed on the building.

By the light of the Muse's dancing tendrils of fire, Edward carefully descended the rear stairwell, testing each step before bearing the entirety of their weight upon each plank. As he neared the bottom, he began to hear the familiar voices of his fellow station brothers and relief began to pump furiously through every inch of his aching, exhausted body.

But that wicked Devil's Muse still had tricks up her sleeves, luring him into a sense of false security at their proximity to safety before demolishing it just as quickly.

With a haunting bone chilling sigh, a gust of wind blew through the last of the crumbling skeletal frame of the building's ground floor, reigniting withering flames and fueling them; encouraging them to grow and spread and devour the domain she'd claimed as her own in its entirety with her captives trapped within.

Towering flames slithered their ways up the walls and across the ceiling, siphoning every last bit of oxygen within the caged inferno with a menacing rumble caused by the multiplying numbers of tendrils snapping at the air like the tips of bullwhips.

"Get out of there!" Alec yelled at Edward as he stood frozen, Bella in his arms, staring at the blazing manifestation of the Muse's fury at their near escape. The powerful stream of water under Alec and Felix's control had little effect in taming her wrath as they tried to clear him a passage through the walls of flames.

Twenty five feet stood between the demon's captives and their freedom, between life and death, suffocating heat and fresh cool air. Twenty five feet between triumph and failure, and as Edward took his first hasty steps toward the end of his latest dance with the Devil's Muse, her rage at his having defeated her yet again climaxed.

Just fifteen feet from the gateway leading out of the bowels of Hell, she began tearing the building down around them. A section of ceiling collapsed in the path, narrowly missing crushing them beneath as it came crashing down in an avalanche of torched, flaming debris. The heat and wave of broiling embers that burst forth upon its collision with the floor, singed the hairs on Edward's arms and the molten projectiles fused to his skin, searing it and sending blinding shards of white hot pain through his body.

He staggered backwards, curses ripping from his lips as tears from the scorching agony pricked and fell from his eyes. The men's shouts from just feet away as they fought valiantly to save one of their brothers and the life he'd valued over his own, were drowned out by the roar of the Muse's victorious laugh reverberating from every angle surrounding him and the deafening thud of his own slowing heartbeat in his ears.

In his ten years of battling the fiery demons, he'd heard the desperate cries of too many to count and responded without hesitation or fear for his own safety. His fears had always stemmed from someplace much deeper than his own sense of self. They were born and safeguarded within his heart in the names and love he had for those he considered family. It mattered not to him should the day come he answered his last call, only that his family would survive the heartache they'd endure.

And should today be that day, he was almost certain they wouldn't.

"You may claim me one day...but today ain't that fuckin' day," he muttered as he stepped backwards, giving himself room to execute the maneuver of desperation that would free them both of the Muse's deadly clutches.

"When I am called to duty, God," he began to pray aloud as he tightened his hold on Bella and headed for the flames.

"Wherever flames may rage..."

The reflection of the flames flickered and glowed in his eyes as he grew closer, pushing himself to go faster with every ounce of strength he possessed.

"Give me strength to save a life!" he roared, his feet pushing them off the ground and sending them airborne over the debris and through the flames.

An act of courage so daring only few would have what it took to attempt; too dangerous to hope escaping without incurring bodily harm...

An act of courage far too straining for an injury weakened body to sustain.

Emerging through the wall of fire, Edward appeared to his brothers as an avenging angel; a man not of this Earth but of the Gods, untouchable and indestructible even by the most violently evil of terrifying adversaries — but indestructible he was not.

Beyond the reach of the flesh searing and clothing scorching flames, Edward's injured knee succumbed to its vulnerable condition and crumbled under the impact of their combined weight upon the ground. A guttural scream of intense agony tore from his chest as he collapsed to the floor and the body of the woman he'd never known was tossed from his arms, coming to rest feet before him, sprawled limp and seemingly lifeless across the charred surface.

The ground beneath his crumpled body shifted and his eyes shot up, unbridled fear mixing with sheer agony as they locked on his baby brother's - the pride and idolizing awe in the dark depths vanishing instantly. Time moved like molasses across a flat surface as the floor rumbled and began to give way, panic forcing the air from his lungs as his mouth formed the inaudible words, "_Oh God_."

"GRAB HER!" Edward screamed. His words, filled with the finality of a man staring death in the face, nearly went unheard as the ground shattered and broke apart beneath him, swallowing him whole into the pitch black nothingness below as Emmett wailed Edward's name in horrified despair.

The last image burned into Edward's still full of life eyes before his body made impact with the basement floor and an avalanche of debris buried him, was the lower half of Bella's dangling form being hoisted back up to safety. In the moments before the pain shredding through his body became too severe to keep fighting against and the blackness overtook him, his lips turned up into a smirk and a gurgled breath left his lungs with his victorious last words.

"You can't...have her."

He'd danced with the Devil's Muse in a fierce battle over the life of an innocent...

And he'd won.

**A/N****: Okay...pitchforks, torches, nooses, and shotguns away please. Just repeat after me...Jersey, I trust you...Jersey, I trust you...Jersey...so help me God...I trust you. Keep that mantra going and arm yourselves with Kleenex for a few chapters.**

**With that said...two awesome readers and friends of mine made a Twilighted forum for Through the Flames. Feel the need to discuss the story or need a shoulder to lean on? Head on over. Ash, Jules and I will welcome all of you with open arms, lurkers and reviewers alike. We don't bite...I promise, so come hang with us. ^_^**

**www(dot)twilighted(dot)net/forum/viewtopic(dot)php?f=44&t=9613&sid=&p=992440p992440**

**As always, reviews receive teasers for the next chapter. **


	6. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Twilight character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. All intellectual properties associated with _Through the Flames_ belong to SparklingTwilight. Plagiarism is theft. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization. Thank you.

_***Hey guys, this is Julieblys and tkmoon712, SparklingTwilight's pre-readers for TTF. Please be advised, we'll be hijacking this weeks AN.**_

_**Soooo...do you remember Jersey's original story description where she warned about severe HF? Yeah, now's about the time for that HeartFail to come into effect. We highly suggest having a box of tissues handy before you begin reading this chapter.**_

_**No really...stop now and go get them.**_

_**If your box is half empty, go to the store and buy more. You're going to need them. If you're one of those readers that skips AN's...well enjoy your snotty sleeve.**_

_**On with the chapter peoples!***_

* * *

The Destruction and Discovery of Faith

The ICU waiting room spared not an inch of standing room to be found, and hours had passed since the majority of its inhabitants had given up their battles with security and hospital personnel to diligently remain where they stood, regardless if they were obstructing the hallways or not. Over a dozen men, covered in soot, ash, and sweat, crowded the small stuffy room on the sixth floor of Tacoma General, each of them waiting for just the slightest cause to begin to hope — the one thing they couldn't dare to interrupt their silent prayers for in fear of that one second becoming the one in which their prayers went unheard.

It had taken them too long and a life had nearly been lost on the scene, but they'd held on and fought valiantly against the clocks, cursing every passing second that allowed a beating heart to slip further and further away from them. The moment they'd lost hope and began to pray would forever remain ingrained in each of the men's minds and hearts for all eternity. Through the sirens and earth shaking rumble of the inferno they continued to wage war against, and above the voice of the rig's driver as he communicated with dispatch, they heard the medic's five words cross their radio airwaves that had brought each of their worlds to a screeching halt with perfect clarity - as if they'd been shouted through a bullhorn amidst the silence of a slumbering forest.

_"He's crashing! We're losing him!"_

The silence within the claustrophobia inducing confines of the waiting room, rank with the pungent odor of soot and smoke wafting off the men, resembled that of the grave moments they'd endured on scene after hearing those words. Only the occasional rustle of fabric accompanied with a distressful sigh broke the monotonous stillness surrounding them with almost timed intervals as one of the band of brothers would shift and resettle themselves back into their seats.

And amidst the sea of mourning men, one had finally crumbled under the weight of his own guilt. If only he'd been the one with enough courage to put someone else's life ahead of his own for once, he wouldn't be stained with his brother's blood, sweat, and tears. Tears blurred his sight as he stared down at his hands; a rippling, watery vision of flesh, dirt, and the maroon remnants of Edward's life force. His breath became trapped in his lungs, a prisoner of his despair as he prayed even harder to every deity known to man for a show of mercy.

"Rose...please take Emmett home," Carlisle sighed, unable to keep bearing witness to his youngest child breaking apart at the seams.

"I'm not going _anywhere_," Emmett growled, the evidence of his anguish breaching the barriers of his eyes and spilling down his cheeks, leaving behind streaks carved through the smudges of filth.

"Emmett, we won't hear anything until he makes it out of surgery..." the Chief paused, breathing through the pang of agony that ripped through him when his mind echoed the treacherous thought of** '**_**if**_ _he makes it out_.' "At least go clean yourself up and grab something to eat. Jasper...that goes for you too."

Jasper's eyes narrowed at his father's order, "Why just us? Why not the rest..."

"Because your my sons!" Carlisle roared, pushing himself off the wall to stand before them, shaking from the maelstrom of emotions battering every inch of his being. "And for _once _in your goddamn lives you boys will _listen _and do as you're told!"

He hadn't meant to snap at them but he'd lost the precarious grasp on his ability to remain calm and in control what seemed like a lifetime ago. Before his son, his flesh and blood and pride and joy, had even fallen through the floor, it had vanished with the lack of response to his frantic radio calls and had left him in a state of internal chaos and heart seizing panic. It hadn't subsided since those horrifying moments, and it wouldn't until his prayers were answered. If only Edward had done as he'd been told, they might not have been sitting in that god awful room waiting for just a sliver of hope in which they could cling to.

Morning came and passed with a lack of awareness from the men within the hell of their holding cell. The seconds and minutes passing in entire lifetimes of their own as they continued to wait were marked not by the movement of the sun across the sky above them, but by the incessant ticking of the clock above the doorframe. Each timed and precise tick reverberated throughout the room only to be absorbed by the weary bones of the vigilant statues of the men and women within, leaving in their passing wake permanent, invisible scars that would continue to haunt them for years to come.

"Mr. Cullen?" an exhausted voice beckoned the glances of over a dozen of the room's prisoners. Eyes from all directions and in varying states of alertness shot to the man standing in the doorway dressed in hospital issue scrubs and tiredly pulling the surgical cap from his head.

"Yes..." the Chief breathed as he stood from his seat, his wife firmly by his side.

"I'm afraid I have no absolute guarantees to give you at this moment, but we've managed to stabilize him for the time being," the man said, his expression one of intense sorrow as he gestured to the chairs they'd just vacated. "Please...have a seat."

"How is he?" Esme croaked through her tear filled and constricted throat.

"He's still in critical condition," the doctor sighed, squatting down before them so as not to tower over them. "Upon his arrival, we were unable to evaluate the extent of his injuries due to his unstable condition. He was rushed to surgery immediately for an exploratory procedure to find the sources of internal bleeding, which we've repaired. He's been cleared of the most life threatening injuries he's sustained, but he's not out of the woods just yet. I just wanted to let you know that he's still hanging on and his vitals are strengthening."

"Can we see him?" Carlisle asked, tears clouding his vision.

"Not yet, I'm afraid. He's made it through the first half of the surgery better than we'd expected, but we still have to get a clear indication of the extent of his other injuries. The surgical team is wheeling him back up from CT now as we speak. I don't wish to cause you any further distress, but I believe it's imperative for you to be fully informed on the situation..." he paused, trying to convey the information as gently as possible.

"During the scan we found that Edward has sustained injuries to his spine..."

"Is he paralyzed?" Esme spluttered as a torrent of tears rolled down the cheeks of every person within the room.

"I'm afraid it's a possibility but we can't be sure until the Neuro-spine team repairs the damaged vertebrae. I assure you we have one of the best surgeons in the country tending to him and everything possible will be done to prevent permanent damage. Dr. Ashford is hopeful that once the pressure is removed from his spinal cord, he'll regain motor function but, unfortunately, it's uncertain at this point."

"When will we know for sure whether he'll ever walk again or not?" Carlisle asked, his heart breaking into a million painful shards at the prospect of his lively son confined to a wheelchair for the rest of his life.

"We'll know definitively when he wakes up, which won't be for a while yet. During the CT scan, it came to our attention that he has a small bleed in his brain that we're going to keep under close surveillance. It's minor at the moment and we have no reason to believe it will have any long term effects on his cognitive abilities, but we're going to keep him sedated for the time being to not only minimize the swelling but to make it easier for his body to heal as well."

Through the next hour, every person in the room listened to the doctor but only minimal details actually infiltrated their minds comprehensively. Brief words spoken together like _collapsed lung_ and _third degree burns_ stood out in their minds, malignant and terrifying against the more benign conveyances of _broken leg _and _fractured ribs_. The knowledge that one of their own lay broken and barely clinging to survival one level below them as they stood whole and unharmed, settled upon their shoulders, bearing down on them with the unrestrained weight of the world and causing each of them to sag beneath the burden of it.

"Carlisle...where are you going?" Esme whimpered after the good doctor took his leave, parting with words of keeping hope alive and promises to keep them informed continuously.

"For a walk...Esme, I can't...I...I just need to be alone for a few minutes," he struggled to respond, not wanting to break down in front of others.

Carlisle turned on his heel and left his wife to be consoled by his sons as he fought to keep himself upright and moving away from the view of spectators. Tears streamed from his eyes as his breaths tore from his lungs in staggered uneven bursts, his feet navigating his course on nothing more than instinct. His leaden body collided with a heavy wooden door, pushing it open with exhausted dead weight and spilling him onto his knees upon the burgandy carpet of the aisle leading toward the altar of the hospital's chapel.

"_Damn you!_ _Why?_ Why _my _son?" he wailed through choking sobs, expelling the last shred of energy his body contained and sending himself to the floor in a slumped heap of agonized despair. His cries echoed within the empty pew lined room, heard only by himself and the stained glass impressions of the Lord set ablaze by the sun in its descent toward the horizon.

The minutes of solitude the Chief had sought out dragged on in an endless fashion until the chapel had been shrouded in the veil of night, lit only by the soft glow of the recessed lighting and the candles that had been lit by patients' loved ones passing through. After what could have been an hour or more, Carlisle had managed to pick himself up off the floor and deposit himself onto the edge of a pew where he continued to sit motionlessly with unanswerable questions ravaging his brain and inaudible prayers falling from his lips.

He heard the door brush across the carpet as it opened, but paid no more mind to it than he had the half dozen or so other times it had opened in the last few hours. This time, however, the person wasn't just another loved one passing through and he made that fact known by wordlessly sliding into the pew beside the Chief.

Alec clasped his hands together and rested his forearms atop the back of the pew in front of them as he leaned forward and let his eyes roam the chapel in silence. He'd never been a man of extreme faith, but in light of recent events, he was considering becoming one. There wasn't a question in his mind that the only reason Edward was still alive because he was a fighter by nature.

Edward was a good man, an honest and selfless man; a man who wasn't finished making this world a better place to live in, and he wasn't ready for Edward's name to grace the memorial tree with the rest of their fallen brothers. If it was true that only the good die young, Alec was selfishly considering airing Edward's every misdeed in an attempt to prolong his years of Earthbound penance to earn his passage through the Pearly Gates beyond life. A defiant plea borne of desperation to keep his best friend amongst the land of the living.

"Doctor Ashford was just by the waiting room...I figured I'd come find you to tell you that he said the surgery went well and he's hoping for positive test results once the swelling in his spinal cord goes down. He said the Ortho team is taking over to fix his leg and he should be out of surgery within the next few hours."

Alec spoke softly, not wanting to startle the Chief but also lacking the energy to speak any louder. The stress of the day had taken its toll on each and every one of them, exhausting them physically and emotionally to the core.

Carlisle nodded absently as another unknown stranger entered and traveled along the far wall of the chapel toward the tiers of tea light candles. He waited for the person to retreat again before setting his tired eyes on the man beside him. A man he'd known as his son's best friend dating all the way back to the days long since passed of Kindergarten construction paper holiday turkeys and summertime tree house sleepovers. He focused on that familiar boy turned man before his eyes and allowed another tear to fall in his presence.

"I can't lose him," he breathed his confession as more tears began to flow and constrict his throat. "Not to death and not to a lifelong disability. I need _my son _back...the person he was before he ran into that building, not the shell of a person he'll become if he doesn't fully recover."

"Ya can't think like that, Chief. Edward's never admitted defeat to a challenge a day in his life and he isn't about to start now. You know damn well if the docs tell him he'll never walk again he'll fight with everything in him just to prove them wrong," Alec responded, meeting the Chief's watery gaze head on sternly.

Carlisle's eyes drifted downward as he nodded, the corners of his lips twitching upward slightly at Alec's words. If anyone had the strength and determination needed to achieve the presumably impossible, his son did.

"Anyway," Alec pressed on, clearing his throat and running a hand through his matted hair. "The guys wanted to know if you'd be alright with them coming down here to say a few prayers before they hit the road for the night."

"You should head out with them...you need the rest to pull shift in the morning," Carlisle sighed, dragging his hands over his exhaustion worn face.

"Speaking of shifts, a couple guys from the other stations have volunteered to help cover us since we're down four men now. It was a smart thing you did pulling Em and Jas out of rotation until they can get their heads away from here and in the job where it needs to be," Alec nodded as he began to stand.

"I didn't have a choice and the jury's still out over pulling you as well," Carlisle muttered, uncomfortable with Alec returning to work so soon.

He was too close to the situation, too involved with the entire family to not be affected by it. Carlisle was just as worried about him not being focused on scenes and putting himself at greater risk of being injured as he was his own sons.

"I need the distraction, Carlisle...all this sitting around and waiting is driving me to the brink of insanity."

Alec's admittance was truthful for the most part. Being able to focus on something other than his best friend's critical condition was something he desperately needed, but he also needed to get away from Emmett. The accusation he'd made just hours before the horrific notion of Edward's death nearly became an actuality they'd both had to endure, had created a palpable and easily detonated strain between them. Alec feared one wrong move or audible word from him that Emmett didn't wish to hear would set him off, and the last thing he wanted to do was contribute to his severe duress any more than he already had. His earlier spoken ill words had done enough damage and no amount of sincere apologies could ever take them back.

The fact they'd managed to sit in silence within ten feet of each other for countless hours on end without Emmett lashing out at him was a miracle in and of itself. Alec wasn't about to press his luck, nor was he inclined to put Emmett in the position of having the both of them banned from hospital grounds when he _clearly_ needed to be by his brother's side. Steering clear of him for a while was the least he could do to ease the sting of his heartless and completely untruthful words.

"I get it, Alec. Had it been anyone else I would've needed the same, but this is about as far from my son as my body will allow," Carlisle sighed, speaking of the room they inhabited on the fourth floor of the hospital as he stood from the pew. "Send the boys in. I should really be getting back up to the waiting room."

Alec looked into the bloodshot eyes of the man he'd come to think of as a father figure in his own father's twenty year long absence and reached out to place a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"He'll pull through, Carlisle. North Orchard Street wasn't his last call."

Fifteen minutes later, Alec returned with the entire waiting room in tow. Other men from their station on alternate shifts who weren't currently on duty had come to join them and offer the Cullen family their support, bringing the headcount within the chapel soaring into the high twenties when combined with their crew members and some of their wives. Carlisle thanked them for coming as they gathered and formed a circle, linking hands with their neighbors and closing their eyes for a series of silent moments before the Chief led them in prayer.

"Dear Lord, we come together today in prayer for our son and brother who has made the supreme sacrifice of placing another's life before his own in the performance of his duties. Through the intercession of our patron, Saint Florian, may you look upon him with eyes of mercy, may your healing hand rest upon him and your life giving powers flow into every cell of his body and into the depths of his soul, cleansing, purifying, restoring him to wholeness and strength for service in your Kingdom. Amen."

A chorus of solemn declarations of affirmation resounded from the members of the circle and in groups they approached the tiers of votive candles. In Edward's honor, some nearly twenty candles were lit and permitted to carry within their singular flames the hopes and prayers of his two families; the one he was born with and the one he gained upon his first uniformed steps into Station Twelve's house.

As the chapel began to clear and his family headed back up to the waiting room they'd occupied since before daybreak that morning, Emmett trailed far behind, hanging back in the shadows until the door had closed behind the last person. Once he'd obtained the privacy he needed, he made his way to the center of the first pew and lowered himself down to his knees. Tears fell from his eyes as he knelt, staring at the tiers of candles lit for his brother as he tried to form the words he desperately needed to say.

"I know I'm probably the least deserving of having my prayers answered. I never think of others before myself and I take the people in my life for granted daily...but my brother..." he choked up, unable to keep speaking as deeply penetrating regret and sorrow tore him right down to the quick.

"My brother...Edward...he doesn't," he croaked through his sobs. "He's selfless and good to the core and everything I wish I could be and I need the chance to show him that. I've done wrong by him so many times...I just...I need him to pull through so I can prove to him that I can be someone worthy of having him in my life..."

His eyes screwed shut tightly, sending a wave of tears down his face as his chest constricted and shuddered violently, trapping the air within as he seized up. When his breath was finally expelled, it came out in hitched bursts.

"Please," he pled heartbrokenly, "Please bring him back to us so I can at least tell him I love him. He needs to know that because I never say it."

In the back of the room, Alec stood silently, bearing witness to a young man's agonizing desperation. He'd meant to retreat upon seeing the youngest of the Cullen brothers kneeling in prayer, but the sounds of his sobbing had cemented his feet to the floor - and upon Emmett's final words before dropping his head down onto his fisted hands, his feet began to move him forward silently. He traversed the rows of pews to make his way to Emmett's side and lowered himself down onto the bench, reaching a hand out to place upon his back.

"He knows, Emmett. He doesn't need to hear you say it to know it the same way you don't need to hear him say the words to know he loves you too."

* * *

**A/N****: Yeah...remember that mantra? Keep repeating it and have a little faith. I'll be hangin' in the forum all night, so if ya feel up to it...take a wing by and say hello. Jules promises to have mounds and mounds of tissues on hand should you need em ^_^**

**www(dot)twilighted(dot)net/forum/viewtopic(dot)php?f=44&t=9613&p=1000242p1000242**

**Your guys response to last chapter was PHENOMENAL! Seriously blew me away. Over half of you who have this story on alert reviewed. That's amazing and I bow down to your kindness. As always, reviews receive teasers for the next upcoming chapter. C ya'll next week hopefully. ^_^**


	7. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Twilight character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. All intellectual properties associated with _Through the Flames_ belong to SparklingTwilight. Plagiarism is theft. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization. Thank you.

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The Awakening of One

Eight thirty am Monday morning, exactly thirty one and a half hours after the call for North Orchard Street's fire had gone out, brought a stream of blinding sunlight into room 612 and across Isabella Swan's face. The light was warm on her face and bright behind her eyelids, beckoning them to open to the world around her. As she slowly began to wake, the incessant beeping from somewhere within the vicinity along with a foreign hum caused her brow to furrow in confusion as she reached up slowly with an aching arm to remove whatever the hell was on her face.

In the moments before she opened her eyes to survey her surroundings, she swore she'd never again allow Tanya and Irina to drag her out to another club where she'd get shit-faced in the quickness because of her low tolerance to alcohol with a side of unwillingness to dance. She also resolved herself to get her damn key back so they'd stop playing practical jokes on her in the middle of the night. God only knows what hideous shade of _'Bobo the Clown' _they'd painted her face this time.

"Hey there, kiddo," Charlie sighed in relief as he made his way from his chair to her bedside upon noticing her beginning to stir.

The last day and a half had been torturous for him and Renee as they'd sat vigilantly beside her, waiting for her to regain consciousness. Seeing his baby girl finally begin to come back to life again caused a wave of relief to spread across every weary and nerve wracked bone in his body.

Bella startled at the sound of his voice and her eyes shot open as she sprang forward in the bed with a sudden and unexpected surge of intense pain searing the left side of her body and causing a hoarse wail to erupt from her chest.

"Oh God...Bella, honey, don't move so fast. You'll hurt yourself even worse," Charlie rambled, his hands fidgeting and unsure of what to do to help her as she gasped breathlessly.

"What happened? Where am I? What happened?" she panicked, looking around the room frantically.

The oxygen mask that had been over her face as she slept hung loosely around her neck as her right palm rubbed against the center of her chest. It felt strange, tight and as though a massive weight was bearing down against it causing her discomfort as her breaths wheezed in and out of her lungs.

"You don't remember?"

Her father's question confused her as she coughed, trying to alleviate the uncomfortable pressure in her chest and bringing forth a series of loud barks filled with ill sounding crackles. The sounds of her coughing reminded her of those of a child with croup, but produced nothing and the discomfort remained.

"Remember what?" she rasped. "I went out with Tanya and Irina and took a cab home from the club just after midnight..." her croaking words began coming slower as her memories of the night before started to filter into her mind.

"And then I...went to sleep...oh God..._the fire_...there was a fire. What happened? How did I get out of there? The last thing I remember was the smoke filling my apartment."

Her pulse had taken off rapidly in distress as the images of her smoke filled apartment flashed across her mind. The fear she'd felt as she staggered through the blinding smoke rose within her again just as instantly as it had when she'd felt trapped within the sweltering blackness. Bella's breaths began to shallow, short whistling bursts of air moving in and out of her lungs.

"Kiddo, relax. You need to calm down or they'll want to sedate you. Everything's fine, Bella. You're okay and haven't been hurt badly."

His soothing tone and attempted comforting words had little effect as she began shaking her head and hyperventilating as he tried to reaffix the oxygen mask to her face.

"No...how'd I...I was _trapped_...how the hell did I get out of there?" she sputtered as tears began to build in her eyes, her words and staggered breaths fogging up the clear plastic covering her nose and mouth.

Charlie wished Renee would hurry the hell up in bringing back the coffee they both so desperately needed because he was _severely_ out of his element and hadn't the slightest clue how to calm their daughter down. He'd always been good at the gory part of being a parent, cleaning up and affixing bandages to the bloody cuts and scrapes that would make Renee pale and nearly faint...but making tears disappear had never been a skill he'd possessed.

In most cases, just like in this moment, his complete ineptitude in that department usually only made them fall harder.

"Shit...Bella, please calm down...please? I'm begging you, sweetie...just please, breathe and settle down, please?" he stammered anxiously.

Only the sight of one of the two women in his life could reduce him to a bumbling imbecile. Tears of strangers he could handle, but those of his wife or child he could not. They were his Achilles' heel and just the sight of them could bring him to his knees and have him offering them anything in the world just to make them stop falling. The knowledge of which had often made him wonder how many times they'd used it as a weapon against him in the past.

"Just...tell...me..._how_," she rasped hoarsely between her rapid shallow breaths. Trying to slow and deepen them was becoming increasingly difficult and she worried she'd soon begin to lose consciousness as she had many times before.

She'd been prone to hyperventilation ever since childhood and she hated it just as much now as she had the first time she'd experienced it after a nightmare caused by her stupid cousin's _Boogeyman_ story during a sleepover when she was _five_. She hasn't been on friendly speaking terms with her ever since.

"I will...but not until you calm down," he answered firmly...well as firmly as he could given the circumstances.

Her eyes snapped shut tightly, her right hand fisting the bed sheets fiercely as she focused on her breathing. It hurt like hell each time she tried to fill her lungs with the fresh oxygen, the pressure nearly unbearable. She'd managed to get it under control after a few minutes, but she expended her limited energy in doing so and began to sag tiredly. Charlie lowered himself down onto the side of her bed and helped her lay back slowly so as not to send another wave of pain shooting through her side.

"One of these days you're gonna have to outgrow that before you turn every hair on my head gray, Bella," Charlie tried to lighten the mood, relieved that she'd managed to not black out for once, and tucked the elastic band securing the mask to her face behind her ears.

"_Psh_...Mom digs your salt n pepper strands. She says it makes you more distinguished," Bella chuckled coarsely before taking in a deep wheezing breath and settling her gaze on her father. "Tell me...please?"

Charlie ran his hand back and forth over his mouth as he cleared his throat and nodded to her. "No one's sure where exactly where the firefighter found you, but we're pretty sure you'd been unconscious when he did. With your history...the doctor thinks you may have fainted from a mix of the smoke and your tendency to hyperventilate while panicking."

"Is that how I got hurt? From falling when I passed out?" she grumbled, her voice slightly muffled as she rolled her eyes at her own ridiculousness. Only _she_ would panic and make herself pass out inside of a burning building. When her father didn't answer, her brow furrowed as her eyes shot over to see him shifting uneasily and looking in every direction besides hers.

"It's not...is it?" she breathed, making his eyes dart back to hers worriedly as he shook his head.

She had absolutely no recollection of anything that had happened after making it to her living room. For all she knew, she may very well have managed to stumble out of her apartment and fall down the stairs in the midst of some oxygen deprivation induced state of incognizance. The thought of what _could_ have happened to her, if that was the case, terrified her.

"No...at least we don't think so. There was a bit of an...accident when he was carrying you out of the building," he answered, unsure of how much he should tell her.

"What kind of an _accident_?"

She desperately needed to know what had happened while she'd been unconscious and oblivious to the danger she'd been in. Just the inability to remember practically _any _of it alone was tremendously unsettling, but the knowledge that her injuries had presumably been obtained _after_ she'd already passed out compounded that sense of unease significantly.

"Um...honey, maybe now's not the right time to talk about this. You've need to rest and regain your strength," he attempted to reason with her but only received the "I'm-not-letting-this-go-so-get-to-talkin" glare in response.

"Jesus, Bella...so help me God if your mother wipes the floor with my ass for upsetting you I'm holding _you_ accountable," he grumbled exasperatedly as he shook his pointed finger at her.

"Daddy, please. I _need_ to know," she frowned behind her mask. The fact that he was hesitant in answering her was putting her on edge severely. It only took one glance into his daughter's eyes to know there was no way he was weaseling his way out of this conversation, so with a dismal sigh he began speaking.

"Part of the ceiling in the downstairs hallway collapsed before he could make it out of the building with you," he began, resolving himself to give her the barest of details. "He jumped over the pile of debris because he had no other way to get you both out of the building...but they think when he landed his knee gave out and you landed on your left side when you both fell."

"Jeez...you made it seem horrific and it was hardly anything," she scoffed after letting the information sink in for a minute and dropping her head back against her pillow and staring up at the ceiling. "He's okay though, right? I mean...besides his knee?"

And again, Charlie's silence had her eyes darting back to him. "Dad? He's okay, _right_?"

He released something mixed between a groan and a growl, nearly ready to send a search party for his wife so he wouldn't have to answer. He should have known better than to assume his thoughtful and caring daughter wouldn't ask if the man who'd saved her life had been injured in the incident as well.

"_Charlie_," she demanded, sitting up slowly. She was getting irritated with his unwillingness to answer her questions. She may be laying in a hospital bed and not feeling entirely well by any means, but she didn't feel the need to be tip toed around.

"_No_, Isabella! He's not okay, _alright_?"

The moment his sharp tone hit her ears, Bella recoiled as tears sprang to her eyes. The way he yelled at her made her feel as though he felt it was _her _fault he'd been injured...and the thought that he may be right in feeling that way caused her heart to skip a beat as it sank into the pit of her stomach.

Charlie instantly regretted his harsh tone toward her when her eyes filled with hurt and turned away from him. She'd done nothing wrong, it'd been his fault for giving into her to begin with and it wasn't fair of him to snap at her for his inability to remain firm in his resolve to wait until she'd recuperated before giving her answers that would undoubtedly cause her further distress. He wished he could take back the last half hour, and more importantly the pain he'd caused her that had made her unwilling to turn her attention back to him when he'd taken her hand gently between his own.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart...really I am..."

His apology was abruptly interrupted by the door to her room opening and Renee's voice echoing within the short hallway entry, "Hun...they didn't have any more regular and I waited for someone to brew a fresh pot but it was taking too long so I just got you a dark roast...is that okay?"

Bella's eyes finally turned in his direction, still watery as she swiped at her lower lids with one of her knuckles. Charlie squeezed her hand and leaned in to kiss the side of her head, "I'm sorry, kiddo. I didn't mean to snap at you like that, okay?"

"Yeah...it's fine, Renee," he called out as Bella nodded to him and he got up off the bed to help her with whatever it was she sounded to be struggling with in the entryway.

Turning the corner, he had to roll his eyes at the massive bundle of balloons, teddy bear, and bouquet of flowers she was waging war with while balancing one of the cups of coffee atop the other in her left hand. He took the cups of coffee from her hand as well as the flowers and bear and snickered as she wrestled the rest of the balloons through the doorway.

"Was all this really necessary?" he asked as he shook his head. She paused behind him and scoffed incredulously as she balked at his back.

"Of _course_ it was. I want my little girl's room to be filled with cheer when she wakes up."

He chuckled under his breath and smirked at Bella's quirked eyebrow, "Too late," he mouthed to her, leaving Renee completely unaware as she turned into the open area of the room.

"Oh, baby...you're already awake," Renee nearly squealed as she released the ribbon tethers she'd been grasping and rushed toward her daughter, leaving the balloons to scatter across the ceiling behind her. "How are you feeling? I didn't wake you, did I? You're not in pain, are you?..."

"Mom!" Bella tried to snigger but her mood had turned too sour to pull it off believably. "Take it down a notch, please? I'm feeling...confused, worried, and a little tired. No you didn't wake me, I woke up on my own about twenty minutes ago or so, and right now the pain is tolerable."

Her answering words came slow as she struggled against the pains in her chest, one caused by her injuries and the other by her emotions, but each equally discomforting.

"Are you still feeling disoriented? The doctor said it was likely you would be when you woke up, but if that's why you're worried, don't be. He said it should fade."

Bella bit back a groan as her mother started babying her, smoothing down her hair and brushing her feathered bangs away from her eyes before adjusting her hospital gown collar as she rambled on. She felt like she was ten years old again and stuck in bed with the flu when she began fluffing pillows and fixing her bedding to ensure she was "_as snug as a bug in a rug_."

"No, Mom. I'm worried about the firefighter that saved me. Dad said he'd been hurt badly."

"Isabella!" Charlie wailed, wide eyed and throwing his hands up in the air as if to ask her _"What the hell, kid?" _

Renee's withering gaze darted over to him as she pursed her lips, "_Charles_ _Swan_, you're really in it to win it, aren't you?"

"Win what, dear?" he grumbled as his head fell back against the padded chair.

"The giant _ass_ of the year award," she deadpanned, verbally slapping him in the back of the head. "Was I the only one present in the room when Dr. Gelvin informed us she'd be distressed when she awoke and it'd be best to keep her as calm as possible?"

Bella took pity on her poor old man and reached her IV clad arm out to wrap her hand around her mother's and give it a squeeze to get her attention.

"It was my fault, Mom. I wouldn't let it go because I need to know what happened to the man that saved me. Please tell me? It'll stress me out more not knowing."

Renee passed a concerned eye over her daughter, taking in her still flushed skin spattered with the bruises that had been uncovered when she'd washed away the dirt and ash with a warm moist rag, and listening to the strained and coarse sounds of her breathing. She'd never experienced fear before in the way she had when they'd received the hospital's call, informing them of their daughter's near brush with death. She felt she owed everything in her life to the man that had saved her only child and, in truth, that's what had taken her so long in returning from her "coffee run."

She'd been making excuses to run down to either the cafeteria or the gift shop repeatedly since their arrival and being fully informed of the events that had transpired. Excuses that enabled her to pass by the waiting room on the same floor so she could inquire about the young man's condition and repeatedly offer his family her words of gratitude and consolation.

She wasn't daft enough to believe that Charlie had suddenly become inflicted by both a weak bladder and a phobia of private bathrooms either.

"Honey, I know you're worried about him," Renee sighed as she gently held her daughter's hand. "We are too, but we're also worried about _you_ and you don't need any additional stress right now, sweetie."

Bella shook her head at her mother, wondering at what age she would finally come to understand her daughter and realize that, while she meant well, sometimes what Renee felt she needed was the complete opposite of what she truly did.

"Bells...what are you doing?" Charlie shot forward out of his chair as Bella pulled the oxygen mask off her face and tossed it aside.

"Getting up," she rasped, throwing the blanket off her. "If you two...won't tell me. I'll find someone...who will."

Just the action of sitting up and turning so her legs were hanging off the side of the bed had rendered her breathless and slightly lightheaded. The fact that such a minimal amount of activity had as great an impact on her energy was incredibly disconcerting, but she chose to ignore it, determined to do what she must to obtain the answers she so desperately needed. She was stubborn as a mule if nothing else in life.

Charlie grumbled under his breath as Renee began arguing with Bella, causing her breathing further distress to the point where the monitor began blaring an alarm because her oxygen saturation had dropped from hovering in the upper nineties down to mid eighties.

"Enough," Charlie huffed, lifting his daughter in his arms and laying her back down in the center of the bed.

"You rest," he ordered with a stern look to Bella before turning his gaze to his wife. "Renee, back off. None of this is doing her any more good than just telling her would."

He helped Bella reaffix the oxygen mask to her face, his eyes darting back and forth between hers and the monitor at her bedside as he instructed her to breathe deeply and slowly. Moments later, they heard her room door open and a nurse appeared, asking if everything was okay. She took inventory of Bella's vitals and made friendly small talk as she increased the oxygen rate flowing into her mask and hung a fresh bag of saline, ignoring the awkward tension within the room. With a meaningful look at both Charlie and Renee as she began to retreat, telling them in no uncertain terms that they'd be asked to leave if they caused her patient any further distress, she notified them Bella's doctor would be in to check on her shortly.

"Bella sweetie," Charlie sighed, rubbing her blanket covered leg gently. "He...he was hurt badly. The floor wasn't stable and when you both landed on it...it gave way and he fell into the basement."

Bella gasped, her right hand flying to her mask covered mouth as her father's pained eyes settled on her own. A million questions ransacked her mind, but only the one of most importance passed her lips.

"Is he alive?"

Charlie nodded just once, never breaking their gaze as he continued to speak to her, "He's hanging on so far, but they're not sure what condition he'll be in when, or if, he wakes up."

"Honey, you have no idea how lucky you are to still be here," Renee began to tear up as she sat down on the other side of Bella. "His brother said if he hadn't realized the floor was caving in and yelled at him to grab you, you would have fallen with him."

Her mother's words were like a swift kick to her gut. He'd had a chance to save himself, but he'd given it up for her...for a person he didn't even know...

"Do I know him? I mean...have I ever met him before?"

She wasn't exactly friends with any firefighters, but having grown up as a cop's kid, she'd met quite a few of them over the years and was acquainted with them enough to exchange casual greetings in passing if she ever ran into them in public. It made her wonder if it was someone she knew and that was the reason he'd spared her his fate.

"No...not that I'm aware of anyway. Most of the guys you know are all old men my age," Charlie shook his head, but a sudden though occurred to him. "You may know his brother from high school though, Jasper Cullen? He went to Mt. Tahoma, but I think he was a year or two ahead of you. Edward had already graduated when you started freshman year there."

Bella tried to rack her brain for a memory of him, for either of them, but was coming up blank. The only thing she recognized was the last name, and she only recognized it because the fire Chief's name was Cullen. She'd met him a handful of times before and knew a little about his family, mostly that he came from a long family line of firefighters and he had a few sons. She'd never met them, that she could recall, but nearly everyone that lived in Tacoma knew that much about them. Their surname was nearly legendary in their small area of the world for being associated with the dangerous profession.

"I don't remember them," Bella finally responded, shaking her head. Granted, that shouldn't have been all that surprising seeing as how she'd been rather shy and introverted during her younger years. By her senior year she may have only been able to name a quarter of her classmates at most...and that was only because they'd shared a large number of the same classes for four straight years.

"I'm not really surprised. He didn't seem to remember you either, but his father does...he didn't recognize you that night but when he saw your mother and I here...he immediately knew who you were and was relieved to hear you seemed to be doing okay."

Bella's heart broke at the tormented look on her father's face. She could only imagine the heartache the Chief and his family were going through at the moment having one of their own fighting for the life he sacrificed for her. If he didn't survive, she wouldn't fault them for holding her accountable...she knew she wouldn't be able to because she'd blame herself as well.

It was in that moment, as a quiet knock rapped at the door signaling her doctor's arrival, that she resolved herself to be there with him through every second of his recovery. He hadn't abandoned her in her time of need and she'd be damned if she abandoned him in his.

"Isabella," the doctor smiled kindly as Charlie moved back to his chair as he approached her bed. "It's good to see you awake. How are you feeling?"

"My chest and side hurt...mostly my arm and shoulder, and it's a little hard to breathe...my throat is kind of sore too," she answered as best she could. She still had relatively no idea what injuries she'd sustained.

"Hopefully I can shed a little bit of light on what you're feeling," he smiled again as he took a seat on the edge of her bed. He seemed very kind and well mannered, and it put Bella at ease nearly instantly.

"You inhaled quite a bit of smoke during the fire and it has irritated the lining of your lungs, which is why you're experiencing the difficulty breathing and most likely a tightness or pressure in your chest when you inhale."

Bella nodded in understanding as he continued. "The pain in your arm and shoulder is stemming from the impact it took when you landed on it, but there's nothing indicating anything greater than some general muscle soreness or bruising. The x-rays we took during our initial exam came back negative, however, I want you to let me know if that pain doesn't subside over the next few days as it may indicate there's something else causing it, okay?"

As he spoke, he took her arm and rotated it in various directions, assessing her range of motion and level of pain by the faces and noises she'd make. When he was finished, he felt confident that she hadn't sustained any serious injury to her extremity or shoulder joint and that the soreness was just that, soreness.

"What I'm most concerned about at the moment, is your throat. On a scale of one to ten, can you rate the pain for me?" he asked as he reached up to press his fingers along her throat.

"About a four? Maybe?" she phrased as a question, unsure how to actually rate it. She'd never had an injury prior to that moment that required a grading scale of any kind...just typical bumps, scrapes and bruises associated with typical childhood injuries.

He nodded and sighed slightly as his hands came to rest in his lap. "While it's not uncommon for victims of smoke inhalation to experience a sore throat, I'm afraid your discomfort may have been exacerbated when you extubated yourself."

Bella's brow furrowed in confusion. She was familiar with the medical term from the countless hours of research she did for a living, but what confused her was that she couldn't remember ever having a breathing tube down her throat...or waking up and pulling it out.

"I was intubated?"

"Yes, it was the quickest way they could get your oxygen levels up on scene to prevent you from suffering permanent brain damage," he answered with a soothing tone. He didn't wish for her to become distressed over the information as many patients tend to do, and in his years of practice, he'd learned that using soothing and gentle tones helped calm his patients.

"You came to in the middle of a catscan exam and removed the tube before we could get in there. You were quite agitated so we gave you a mild sedative, thinking it would just relax you a bit, but it put you completely back under."

Charlie cleared his throat, scratching his sideburn as the doctor tilted his head to regard him, "Bella doesn't do well with many medications. If it can cause drowsiness, it'll knock her out cold."

"That explains a lot," he chuckled, his head bobbing slightly as he turned his gaze back to Bella, whose cheeks had tinged a faint pink in embarrassment. It was true. She couldn't even handle over the counter cough syrup without falling asleep within minutes of taking it.

She listened as he explained that once she'd removed the tube, her oxygen levels had held steady on their own and they had no indication she was in critical condition by any means so they opted to monitor her closely rather than reinserting the breathing tube. He also informed her that he'd schedule her for an exam of her throat to check for any serious damage she may have sustained from the rather violent tube removal.

"When will I be discharged?" she asked, not enjoying the idea of being stuck in a hospital room when the only place she really wanted and needed to be was by Edward's bedside.

"We'll be keeping you here for a few days more at least for observation. Your lungs need to clear a bit yet and we'd like for you to get to a point where you can tolerate light activity at least without desating, but for the rest of today, all I want you to focus on is getting some rest. As long as your levels continue to be stable, tomorrow we'll attempt to get you up and moving around a bit and see how you do, okay?"

"Kay," she answered, looking him straight between the eyes as she nodded once and forced a small smile across her lips.

After he politely took his leave, Bella closed her eyes and relaxed her head back against her crinkly pillow. She paid no mind to her parents talking quietly as she silently counted in her head, using the beeps of her monitor to keep a steady pace.

And once she reached the insignificant number of three hundred, she opened her eyes and pulled the oxygen mask that tethered her to the wall off her head. Her legs swung over the side of her bed and as her feet hit the cold linoleum floor, her mother choked on a breath.

"Bella!" she cried out. "What are you doing?"

"I have somewhere...to be," she answered as she steadied herself on her feet and turned to grab her saline bag off its hook. She'd drag it all with her if need be, but she wasn't about to spend the rest of the day staring at her own four bland taupe walls.

"Isabella, you heard what the doctor said. You need to rest today," Charlie admonished sternly.

With saline bag in hand, and the rolling monitor under her left hand, she ignored her parents and began taking slow unsteady steps toward the door. Of all the obstacles, mainly her parents, she had foreseen thwarting her mission, the one thing she hadn't...was her own body.

Just the actions of lifting herself from the bed and taking not five steps had her panting for short breaths that crackled and whistled in and out of her lungs. The lack of oxygen being absorbed by her lungs and infused into her bloodstream had her vision blurring and her legs growing weaker by the second. Charlie's arms had wrapped around her just moments before she would have careened toward the floor and he rushed the two normal for a healthy person's distanced strides back toward her bed.

"If you keep trying to get up I'll have them strap you down, do you hear me?" he reprimanded fiercely, rife with concern as he hurried to administer the oxygen she so urgently needed. Her saturation levels had slipped into the seventies in just moments.

"I want..." she trailed off, unable to catch her painful breaths.

"I don't give a _damn_ what you want. What you _need_ is to keep your ass in this bed until told otherwise, understood?" he ordered, his tone dripping with finality. There was to be no argument, and regardless if she was no longer his adolescent child but his twenty four year old adult daughter, she knew better than to test him.

...But that didn't mean she wouldn't try again later.

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**A/N****: You guys are awesome, really. Your response to this story is both heartwarming and humbling. Thank you all so much for your kind words in both reviews and PMs. Don't forget to hit up the forum from time to time. One of my pre-readers and very good friends has started making and posting teaser banners for upcoming chapters in there, and they're definitely worth checking out. **

**On another note, someone asked me in a review if I preferred questions pertaining to the storyline to be asked via PM or review. My answer is, and this is to all of you who have ever wanted to ask anything, either or. However, if it's a plot spoiler question, please only ask if it's imperative that you know the answer to be able to continue reading the story. **

**Once again, thank you all SO much for the awesome support you've shown me, and I hope to see you all around the forums ^_^. C ya next week!**


	8. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Twilight character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. All intellectual properties associated with _Through the Flames_ belong to SparklingTwilight. Plagiarism is theft. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization. Thank you.

And as suggested by my pre-readers:

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*****************************TISSUE WARNING!****************************

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The Gift of a Blessed Saint

Six ICU wasn't a very cheery place to begin with, but to the hoards of visitors that frequented the unit in hourly rotations, it had become their land of Purgatory. The place where the living are forced to lay their eyes upon the ones they love as they hover a hairsbreadth away from death continuously. It was damning to the spirits of all those who ventured beyond the steel gray doors and into room 635, the largest unit room at the very end of the hall from which the constant hum of a ventilator and beeping tones from numerous monitors emanated into the hall, but still, they somehow managed to keep hope alive in their hearts.

Each person who had come to sit with Edward since he'd made it out of surgery had brought with them something with which to decorate his dreary sterile room. Countless pictures of he and his friends and family smiling together adorned the walls and glass door along with a Maltese cross window decal from each station. A Tacoma F.D. t-shirt, with the signatures of everyone who had stood vigil permanently etched upon it, hung beside the dry erase board that displayed the date and his nurse's name...two pieces of information that had already changed with greater frequency than Edward's constant critical condition.

The waiting room outside the unit had been jam packed with bodies for nearly forty straight hours, leaving no room for the visitors of patients not possessing the last name Cullen. It was a surreal sight; one that had many hospital employees, patients, and visitors taking double and triple-take glances in their direction as they passed by. Never before had many of them witnessed such a mass gathering of living statues; unnaturally unmoving in their somber silence.

As both the clock above the door and his wristwatch counted down the last five minutes until the next bedside shift change of room 635, Carlisle finally came back to life after fifty five consecutive minutes of conscious slumber and rose from his chair with a sigh. The sigh itself acted as an alarm clock for the other inhabitants of the room, and like clockwork, they wordlessly came out of their hibernation. With just flickers of their gazes and subtle shifts in their poses, they silently chose who would be released from their holding cell for the span of the next coming hour.

After the first half hour following Edward's relocation into his unit room, the nurses were forced to place a limit on the maximum number of visitors his room could have at any given time. The enclosed space and entire end of the hallway had just become far too crowded for them to tend to their patient efficiently. Room 635 now had a maximum holding capacity of three, excluding the two who had become permanent inhabitants of the room.

With Esme's unshakable determination to remain by her son's side, Carlisle and his sons had taken to rotating, allowing one of the Cullen men to remain within the walls of their loved one's room at all times as well as two additional visitors. His hour had finally arrived, and he stood anxiously awaiting the hum of the electric doors to open and allow him entrance as Emmett emerged.

At his third turn in his five foot pacing track, his eyes caught sight of Charlie turning the corner. His steps slowed as the father of the girl Edward had given his life for—a girl he remembered fondly from many, many years before when she was just a tiny little thing with pig tails, big beautiful innocent brown eyes, and a toothy smile as she proudly showed off her shiny plastic deputy badge that was pinned to her purple overalls.

That image, still so vivid in his mind, gave him pause to wonder where the hell the years had all disappeared to so quickly. She was no longer that adorable little girl, but a beautiful young woman...and the sole reason his son lay lifeless and hanging on by a thread.

His mind and heart were at war with each other constantly. He'd always taught his sons that every life they attempted to save was just as significant as their own, and deep down, he truly believed that. But, in the place he'd found himself standing in for the last two days, his heart was screaming in agony that his son was more important.

The thought made him ill each time he faced one of her parents.

It made him ill because she was just as vital a part of their lives as his son was of his own.

It made him ill because had he known just who it was that was trapped in that building, he too would have been inside of it, putting his own life on the line to save hers the way Edward had.

It made him ill because while their child had been injured and continued to suffer just trying to breathe on her own, they'd made frequent trips to his end of the floor with the sole purpose of checking on his son's condition...and he hadn't _once_ traversed the long corridor to her room with the same caring intentions.

Yes, he was relieved that she'd fared far better than his own flesh and blood, but with his heart and mind at complete odds with each other, he couldn't bring himself to physically force his feet to carry him in her direction.

"Any change?" Charlie asked, wondering if they had any results from Edward's last brain CT scan yet. He'd been sitting on edge for the last two hours waiting for an opportunity to come inquire about it.

"No...the bleed is still growing slowly," Carlisle answered with a heavy heart. "They scheduled him for another scan in a few hours. If it continues to get worse they're going to bring him back up to the OR to relieve it."

Charlie's eyes closed as his shoulders slumped, "Jesus Christ...I don't..." he shook his head sorrowfully as he swallowed thickly. "Carlisle, I'm _so_ sorry. I can't even...if there's anything, _anything _at all we can do for you, please don't hesitate to ask. Renee and I are forever indebted to your family."

"Thank you, Charlie. How's Isabella?" he asked, feeling half the man he'd once thought himself to be.

As he stood before a man without a selfish bone in his body, he questioned when, in his mind, it had become acceptable for himself or any other individual within his ranks to willingly give their life for another, but for that notion to become wholly unacceptable to an insufferable degree when it came to his children. Never before had he considered himself to be even just _slightly_ hypocritical, but for nearly the last forty eight hours, it had become the only word capable of defining him in his entirety.

He'd known the day each of his sons crossed the firehouse's threshold, wearing their city issued uniforms, that there would, almost undoubtedly, come a point in their careers when they'd have to make the one decision that haunts the dreams of every man in their profession. He'd known it, and he'd been accepting of the assumed inevitability of it, but somewhere in the translation of that nightmare becoming a reality, his acceptance went up in flames, leaving behind a giant pile of hypocritical intolerant ash.

"They're talking about possibly intubating her again," Charlie sighed as he roughly ran his hands over his face. "Her breathing's gone to shit over the last few hours but she keeps fighting them off. They gave her some kind of breathing treatment an hour ago that seemed to help a little, at least enough to let her rest...somewhat anyway."

Carlisle's heart sank violently, sending a sharp pang through his chest along with a wave of sickening nausea. Two full hours he'd sat inside that damn waiting room with ample opportunity to get up and walk down the hall to check on her, but hadn't and he had no excuse. And yet, Charlie had _every_ excuse in the world with his daughter taking a turn for the worse to not leave her side to check on his son...but he still came.

Because he valued Edward's life just as much as his own daughter's.

"Dad...I'm takin' Rosie home but I'll be back," Emmett's tired voice drew Carlisle's attention. He turned and looked over his son standing before him, dead on his feet with continuously darkening bags beneath his swollen bloodshot eyes and nodded as he held his arms open for his daughter in-law.

"I'll see you tomorrow morning. Make sure you and the baby get some decent rest tonight, okay?" he spoke softly as he rubbed her back before ducking his head and dropping his voice to a whisper. "Try to convince him to sleep for a few hours before coming back, please? He can't make it much longer and we don't need him falling asleep behind the wheel."

"I already planned on it. We'll be back first thing in the morning," she whispered back before releasing her hold on him and stepping back into Emmett's side.

"Drive safely, Em," he warned worriedly.

"I will, Pop. I'll be back soon," he nodded as he and Rose stepped into the elevator.

Carlisle watched as the doors closed, obstructing his view of his family, before turning back to Charlie. "I'm gonna head in...you want to join me?"

Charlie shuffled his feet unsurely, knowing there was an entire room full of people that had been patiently waiting to be allowed in to see him. "I'd like that...but they've all been waiting nearly all day."

"It's fine, Charlie. Most of us have been in at least once today," Carlisle assured him.

He nodded and sighed in relief, grateful for the opportunity, "I won't stay long...just a few minutes."

Charlie didn't wish to inconvenience the Cullen family or their friends, but he wanted to see the man who'd rescued his daughter with his own two eyes. He needed to see that he was still alive and fighting as valiantly as his family and friends had been relaying.

He was also desperate to thank him for what he'd done...even if he couldn't hear the words.

Charlie followed Carlisle through the steel gray doors and into the intensive care unit with newly energized leaden feet, listening to the echoes of their footsteps in the hall mix in with the continuous beeps and hums flowing from the unit rooms. A nurse dressed in navy blue scrubs smiled softly at the pair in passing greeting as they turned the corner, but Charlie's eyes were focused only on the last set of glass doors at the end of the corridor and the back of the woman who'd been inside of them for countless hours. As they approached, the woman's head turned toward them, eyes and features aged dramatically since Charlie had seen her last as she slowly rose from her chair and turned to face them.

"Esme...I'm so sorry," Charlie spoke softly as she placed her hand in his outstretched one and tried to smile.

"How is Isabella? I apologize I haven't come to ask...I just...I can't bring myself to part from his side," she returned, misty eyed and sincere.

Charlie's eyes drifted from her grief stricken ones to the lifeless body in the bed before them, the only motion coming from the ventilator forcing air into his lungs through a tube, and answered her with the only words he could summon at the sight before him.

"She's fine...she'll be fine," he stammered as his eyes drifted back to hers. She had enough to worry about in regards to her own family, she didn't need to worry over his as well. "And please, don't apologize. If the situation were reversed, Renee nor I would have been capable of stepping away from our child either."

Feeling the tightening begin to claw its way up his throat again, Charlie reiterated their offerings to assist them in any way possible should they need anything during their time of heartache and hardship. It didn't matter to him if it was a request as mundane as making a run for decent coffee for all of them or if it was to relocate an unmovable mountain...he'd exhaust his last breath attempting to fulfill the request.

"That's very kind of you," Esme smiled softly as she wiped a tear from her eye. "I was actually just getting ready to go ask his nurse for some fresh cloths...would you mind staying with him for a minute?"

Her question was more of an offer, one they both acknowledged he needed at the moment. The awkward shuffling of his feet and hesitant look in his eyes were the only cues she needed to understand he needed a moment of privacy with her son. She'd seen the very same outward signs on many a man that had ventured into the room since she and Edward had entered it. While she'd found it impossible to separate herself from the unit, never able to wander more than a minute's walk away from his room to approach either the nurse's station or the lavatory, she could endure stepping aside for a few moments to grant privacy for words she both didn't need and couldn't bear to unwillingly eavesdrop upon.

"Not at all...and thank you, Esme," Charlie replied appreciatively.

The ability to convey emotional words and gestures had never been a strength of his. To some, he quite often came across as stand offish and even downright stony. But, as Esme and Carlisle retreated and he made his way toward the side of Edward's bed, that impenetrable exterior melted away, leaving behind a soft and warm mound of emotionally overwhelmed old man. An old man that had seen so many horrors and so much violence and coldness in the world that he'd grown numb over the last three decades of his life. Numb to the entire world outside of his home, for only within the safe warmth created by the love his family shared could he allow himself to feel once again.

And he felt now...outside of his home and family and with greater anguish than he'd ever before experienced.

Tears welled up in his eyes as his fingers slipped beneath the collar of his shirt, searching for the strand of metal that had laid against his skin for nearly the last two decades. He lifted the chain and medallion over his head and lowered himself down into a chair beside Edward's bed. A tear slipped from his right eye as he took in all the machinery surrounding him, keeping him alive.

Charlie gripped the medallion tighter in his palm as he said a silent prayer for the son, the brother, the friend, and the hero fighting for his life before him. When he opened his eyes, he thread the chain through Edward's still, motionless hand, enclosing the medallion within his palm.

"My little girl was six when she gave this to me," Charlie began to talk, closing Edward's hand into a fist around the medal. "She even had it blessed by a priest before she allowed me to wear it. I'll never forget the look on his face...he'd been friends with my old man for many years and knew we weren't Catholic, but Father Sheehan indulged her determination to have it blessed by a priest in the biggest church within Tacoma because if it was the biggest, then it was God's favorite and I'd always be kept safe."

Charlie ghosted a chuckle as his eyes began to tear fiercely, his facial muscles quivering in their effort to remain stoic.

"I tell you this because I want you to know the biggest part of the woman you saved...the best part. Her love and heart know no bounds to those she allows within it and she's as stubborn as the day is long when she sets her mind to doing something for someone blessed enough to be a part of her life. Because of that love, this medal's kept me safe for eighteen long years...I'm leaving it with you for the next eighteen."

His stoicism failed him as he tightened his grip on Edward's closed limp fist, tears streaming down his face as a strangled breath escaped his throat.

"Thank you for bringing her back to us."

Charlie's final spoken words were accompanied by an echo of a silent plea within his mind. _"Saint Michael...Pray for him."_

As he rose from his seat and crossed the room to lift the silver marker off the stand and sign the shirt that had little room left in which he could leave his family's name, Esme and Carlisle returned. He found a small patch of navy blue right above the Maltese cross emblazoned on the left chest and, in his steadiest hand, left the lasting mark of their presence with him in the form of the single word Swan — because even if his whole family wasn't beside him physically, their hearts and thoughts were with him continuously.

"I'll stop by and let you know the results of his next CT scan as soon as we get word," Carlisle assured Charlie as he led him back out of the unit.

"Thank you, I'd really appreciate it," he nodded, meeting Carlisle's eyes solemnly as the steel gray doors opened, revealing the sea of silent statues in anguished mourning once again.

Back in Edward's room, Esme ran cool water over one of the clean cloths she'd retrieved and rung the excess water from it before moving to his side. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears as she gently passed the cool cloth across his sweat dampened and feverish skin, over his smooth forehead and brows, unmarred by the stress lines they usually held with a constancy she'd never known of before him.

A tear, the number of which she'd long since lost track of, trailed down her cheek as the cloth glared its rusty hue when she lifted it; the hue of the remaining dried blood she'd been unable to completely remove from his beautiful dark auburn hair. As she turned to return to the sink, her shimmering eyes caught a glint of light off shiny metal upon his hand and her brow furrowed as she reached out to tenderly take his hand in her own and inspect the foreign object.

"Esme? What is it?" Carlisle asked worriedly as he returned and spotted her hunched over their son's bedrail.

"I don't know. It looks like...a medallion?" she questioned as her eyes drifted upward. "I think Charlie left it with him."

Carlisle made his way to her side and took his son's hand from hers, and there, within the palm of his clawed hand, laid a weathered and worn from age and use pendant in the shape of an officer's badge.

"It's a Saint Michael medal...he's the patron Saint of police officers and healthcare workers...people who take oath to protect and save the lives of others," Carlisle breathed as he closed Edward's fist back around the medallion.

"He's got some pretty powerful forces on his side if Charlie left his lucky talisman with him," John "Fitz" Fitzgerald commented as he stepped into the room with his wife at his side. Carlisle and Esme turned to face him as a faint knowing smile crossed his lips. "Man's never taken it off in all the years I've known him...not since the day Bella had it blessed and placed it around his neck."

Two hours later, Edward's parents stood outside the CT scanner's gantry room and anxiously awaited the results that would either have their son heading back up to his room or to the operating room again. Carlisle leaned against the wall, allowing it to hold up the weight he no longer had the strength to as Esme paced short fearful steps back and forth in front of him. When the doctor emerged from the control room and informed them that the intracranial bleed hadn't grown since his last scan and he wouldn't need to undergo another surgery, Esme and Carlisle shared a fully loaded look with each other. Relief, disbelief, and a common unspoken thought was passed between them...

_Powerful forces indeed._


	9. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Twilight character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. All intellectual properties associated with _Through the Flames_ belong to SparklingTwilight. Plagiarism is theft. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization. Thank you.

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*** Mild Tissue Warning. Leave the box behind and just grab 1 or 2 for dabbing. ***

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Desperation, Isolation, and Desolation

A week passed by in the blink of an unaware eye for Edward, but for his family, friends, and Bella, it crept along at an insufferable pace. Nurses and visitors came and went with regular frequency, but little else changed around them. Bella, over the course of the passing days, had become despondent to the world around her, spending her days of being tethered to a wall staring out of the parted shades within her hospital room. The furthest she'd been able to make it from her bed had been to the bathroom, and even that had been a monumental task only capable of being achieved with assistance.

A tear rolled down the left side of her face as she watched the storm clouds roll in from the early morning horizon. The tap of the first raindrop against her window echoed the soft pat of her tear falling to the bedding below and were the only sounds she heard. She'd mastered the ability to tune out the sounds of her parents slumbering breaths, the hiss of oxygen constantly flowing against her face, and the incessant beeping of her telemetry monitor.

She wished she could be outside to feel the cleansing coolness of the summer rain on her face, smell the earthy humidity as the water fell to the heated earth...but she was a prisoner of room 612. The irritation the smoke had inflicted upon her lungs had led to an accumulation of fluid within them that made it difficult to breathe. Pulmonary edema the doctor had told them, and as if the term hadn't been intimidating enough, his ensuing broach of the topic of intubation to give her lungs a rest had most certainly intimidated her.

Intimidated and frightened her to the point where she ruefully resolved herself to stop exerting what little energy she had by being so stubborn. She'd follow his orders and heal, _without_ the breathing tube, and as soon as she could manage it, she'd make her way to Edward's side.

The rain outside had begun pouring in sheeted torrents, streaming rivulets of water down the glass as the bright green leaves on the tree in the very corner of the window flipped violently back and forth, vibrant on one side and pastel on the other. As she lay motionlessly and watched the storm unleash its fury upon the outside world, her mind whispered the trailing bits of the dream that had awoken her so early.

_"Stay with me, Bella...just stay with me..."_

She couldn't remember anything from the dream but those few words and that unfamiliar masculine voice that seemed _so _far away. It was almost as if she'd been standing in a pitch black tunnel and the words had traveled to her from the other side, bouncing and echoing off the walls she couldn't see. Bella had awoken in a sweat, overheated and gasping for breath but simultaneously covered in gooseflesh.

That _voice_...the sound of it haunted her even with her eyes open and focused on the storm churning outside her imprisoning cell. It had been saturated with pure fear, but of what she couldn't be sure. Fear for her? Fear for himself? Fear of something only he could see but remained elusive to her in the blinding darkness? She had no idea, but the continuously resounding disembodied whispers of his terrified tone pulled at her heartstrings painfully.

Bella had tried falling back asleep, tried to reenter that dream realm to help him. Whatever it was that had made him so afraid, she was determined to stop it from frightening him...but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't fall back asleep. She was stuck in conscious awareness much like she was stuck in the bed that had become entirely too uncomfortable with the amount of time she'd spent within it.

The eggshell walls, constant noises, stiff blue blanket, and the inability to either fall asleep and save the owner of _that voice_ or make it stop replaying in her mind, were quickly driving her to the brink of insanity. She wanted nothing more than to scream at the top of her lungs and shatter the ever unchanging atmosphere surrounding her. Maybe if she did that, she could wake up from the god forsaken nightmare she'd woken up to a week before.

Everyone had been trying their best to keep her distracted, knowing full well she had never been able to tolerate confinement for any extended length of time. As a child, just trying to keep her in the house for a day when she was too ill to be outside playing had been a monstrous battle.

Her friends and coworkers had stopped by intermittently over the course of the week and provided momentary breaks in the unbearable monotony, but it wasn't enough to keep her from feeling as though she'd burst from her skin at any moment. She simply wasn't built to live a sedentary lifestyle, and being forced to do so had severely waned her spirits. By Thursday, she'd become apathetic and despondent.

Even when her best friends, Tanya and Irina, her domestic partnered prankster neighbors, came to visit again Friday evening, Bella had barely acknowledged them. She'd tried to smile at them and follow along with all the juicy gossip they unleashed in an attempt to cheer her up, but she repeatedly found her gaze drifting off toward the colorful sky on the other side of the window pane as another night made its approach.

By Saturday, she'd lost any trace of an appetite and had to force herself to eat the bland food that had been placed in front of her.

By Sunday, she couldn't even bring herself to look at the tray...much less touch it.

A light rap at the door sounded as another teardrop fell to the bedding and Bella swiped it away quickly as she turned her head. The knock at the door could only mean one thing...it was sometime around seven am and it was time for her ritualistic morning chest x-ray. As she heard the woman announce herself and begin pushing the bulky machine into the room, Bella resituated herself in her bed to make it easier for the tech.

"Good morning, Miss Swan," Sarah, the tech that had come to her room every morning the previous week, smiled. Bella waved a hand in greeting as her parents began to stir in their uncomfortable padded chairs.

She listened as Sarah kindly asked them to step out for just a minute and apologized sincerely for waking them. Bella liked her, much more, in fact, than the brusque man who apparently worked on the evening shift. Sarah was much more mild mannered and had a terrific bedside manner.

"How are you feeling this morning?" she asked with a warm and casually friendly tone as Bella leaned forward to allow her to place the imaging cassette behind her. "Lean back, hun."

"A little better," Bella answered, her voice slightly rough from disuse.

"Good, I'm glad," Sarah nodded, sounding sincere as she placed a protective lead shield across Bella's lower abdomen.

"Alright, Bella...big breath in for me and hold it," Sarah instructed as she stepped away with her corded switch. Bella took one in and held it until she heard the beep and then let it out without needing to be told to do so anymore.

"You okay this morning, sweetie? You seem...a little off," Sarah asked, concerned. It touched Bella's heart that with all the patients she saw daily, she paid enough attention to each of them that she could detect changes in their moods.

"Just tired...didn't sleep well," she responded, not wanting to cause her to worry unnecessarily. Bella felt she was the type to do so, caring and compassionate, and she wouldn't want to be a cause of worry to such a nice person.

"You sure?" she asked again and Bella nodded, smiling softly behind her oxygen mask. "Okay. Do you want me to draw the blinds on my way out? It's not sunny or anything today, but at least it'll give you an unobstructed view."

"Please...thank you, Sarah," Bella smiled wider as she nodded. She waved once more as Sarah departed and waited for her parents to come back in.

And as soon as they did...she finally cracked.

Streams of tears flowed down her face as bursts of warm air from her lungs fogged the plastic mask covering her face.

"Bella baby...what is it?" Renee panicked at the sight of her daughter sobbing, rushing to the side of her bed.

"I can't...stand this anymore," she cried. "_Please_...I have to get _out _of this damn room!"

The next sob that escaped her lips brought with it a stream of dry coughs, reminiscent of a goose's honking and the sound of it dwindled Bella's spirits even further. It wouldn't go away no matter how stringently she followed her doctor's orders. She feared it never would abate either, that it would become a permanent affliction she'd suffer for the rest of her life.

Renee and Charlie shared a pained look with each other, neither knowing what to do or how to help their daughter. She still couldn't walk much further than the bathroom and back without struggling to breathe and there was nothing they could do about it...nothing they could do to fix that instantly for her.

Another knock resounded at the door and it nearly sent Bella into an emotional tantrum. She was ready to burst at the seams, or lash out at someone, or start throwing her bedding all over the room just to release her pent up aggravation. Instead, she wiped her face with her hands and tried to act like the mature young woman she was as the person entered the room.

"A little birdie stopped by the nurse's station to tell me we might be having a little case of "need-to-fly-the-coop-itis" this morning," the burly man smiled.

"Morning, Ben," Charlie sighed, greeting the nurse Bella had had twice over the last week.

"It's a crappy one, ain't it?" he chuckled as he pointed out the window before focusing in on Bella. "I'll make a deal with ya, sweetie. I'll dig ya up a wheelchair and an oxygen tank and your parents can take you for a wheel around the hospital for a bit, okay? I need my lunch hour poker partner in high spirits today because I've got some packets of _SweeTarts_ to win back."

"Really?" Bella asked, slightly skeptical but unable to keep the burst of excitement from coursing through her veins. Anything, even the hospital's _cafeteria_ would be a better sight than the two walls and a window she'd been staring at for a solid week.

"Really," he smiled with a nod. "Just give me about an hour to finish up checking in on my other patients and we'll get you fixed up with a set of wheels."

The next hour flew by as Bella and her mother worked together to complete one of the puzzles in the crossword book Renee had purchased from the gift shop the previous Tuesday morning, and before she knew it, Ben was back with the wheelchair and oxygen tank in tow.

"Okay, here are the rules. You have to stay connected to the monitor at all times so I can keep tabs on your sats from the nurse's station," he began as he helped her get situated into the chair and hooked up to the oxygen tank. "No going outside, not that you'd want to today anyway, but even if it was sunny, the pollen count is high right now and we don't need anything else irritating your lungs, got it?"

"Got it...anything else?" Bella asked as she gave him a thumbs up that made him chuckle as he stepped back.

"Yeah...one more thing. Get some decent breakfast in ya while you're out. Was told during shift change report that you barely ate a thing yesterday. That's not the way to get your strength back up, so promise me you'll put something nutritious in that belly of yours and then top it off with a sinful treat."

"Done deal," Bella smiled genuinely for the first time in days.

"Alright, _Muldowney_...go burn some rubber for a bit," he laughed, stepping out of the way as Charlie took control of the handles and Renee handled the rolling monitor. "The battery should last ya about two hours give or take...if it starts dingin' at ya, head back."

"Thanks, Ben," Bella waved cheerily.

"Anytime, kid. Behave yourself and I'll tell the evening nurse to let ya go for another spin tonight," he waved back, shutting her room door behind him.

The happiness and freedom that had invaded her system lasted a grand total of a minute and a half. A minute and a half was all it took to get to the elevator directly across from the ICU waiting room where Bella saw at least a dozen people sitting and standing, some in a familiar uniform of their city's fire department, and some in casual street clothes. Her eyes connected with the icy blue pair of a blonde pregnant woman within the room and the instant hardening in them had Bella's eyes drifting quickly down to her lap.

"_Rose_..." she heard a masculine voice emanate from the room in an admonishing tone. She waited for him to say something else, but he didn't and she couldn't stop her eyes from moving back to the room. When she did, she saw the blonde's lips pursed and eyes narrowed at the tall uniformed man across from her that was shaking his head minutely at her with a warning expression.

The entire single worded interaction had gone completely unnoticed by her parents who were having an in-depth conversation with one another. About what, Bella didn't have a clue as she was unable to focus on anything other than the pained eyes of the members within the room. She was overwhelmed with guilt for being the reason that look was in all of their eyes...and the reason "Rose's" eyes had hardened upon the sight of her. She couldn't be certain, but she formed a fairly solid assumption that they knew who she was based on her escorts, for all intents and purposes.

Her parents had been making at least a trip a day down to the other end of the floor to visit with Edward and his parents and returning with whatever information they could give her on his condition. His father, likewise, had come to visit them a few times as well over the past week, but she had yet to meet his mother or anyone else from his family for that matter...and now she knew why.

They blamed her for what happened to him...not that she didn't.

It was something she'd been battling since the very first moment she became aware of how badly Edward had been hurt. More than once she found herself wishing he would have just gotten himself out of danger and left her behind...because she wouldn't have known any different in the condition she'd been in. She acknowledged that she probably would have died, completely unaware of what was happening, before the fire had a chance to make her suffer the way he was now. He could have walked away from Orchard Street and continued on, laughing with his family and friends and enjoying his life if he'd have just left her.

But he hadn't...and now she _couldn't_.

No number of cold, hard eyes or disdain and blame would deter her from doing for him what he'd done for her. As that thought steeled her nerves, she met her eyes once again with those icy blue ones and leveled a steady unfaltering gaze at her icy glare.

"Hey hold that elevator!" a booming voice broke across the quiet corridor. Renee's hand shot out to stop the elevator doors from closing on the tall man quickly making his way out of the waiting room.

He stepped in and smiled gently at Bella's parents, thanking them wordlessly before settling his greenish brown gaze on Bella as he lowered himself down to her level by squatting.

"I'm sorry about that...she didn't mean anything by it. It's just...my Rosie's having a hard time right now...we all are," he said softly.

"It's okay...I understand," Bella nodded, waving it off. Her eyes darted around nervously as he regarded her closely. His eyes trailed over her features, stopping at the scraped up yellowing bruise across her temple and flashing with some kind of emotion she couldn't begin fathom. To her it looked possibly like guilt, but for what she hadn't a clue. He was a stranger to her, and for all she knew, the emotion could have been anything but.

"Sorry," he said softer, lifting a hand hesitantly to gesture toward her bruise as that emotion flashed again in his eyes. "We should have been further in the building...we should have been there to stop both of you from hitting the floor the way you did."

Her brow furrowed as she looked deeply into his eyes that were shining with deep rooted sorrow...and heart wrenching pain. It wasn't until she'd looked deep within them that she saw the anguish and exhaustion within them. Bella's hand reached up and pulled down the plastic mask covering her nose and mouth so her voice wouldn't be muffled again.

"You're a firefighter? With Edward?" she asked curiously.

"Uh...yeah. I'm his brother, too. Emmett Cullen," he said as he held out his hand to her. She took it, feeling somewhat skeptic that he was being so genuinely nice to her considering his brother's condition.

"I'm _so_ sorry...for what happened to your brother," Bella apologized sincerely, fresh tears springing to her eyes. She _was_ sorry, and if she could trade places with him, she'd do so in a heartbeat.

Emmett looked down briefly as he shook his head. He didn't wish for an apology, not from her...not from anyone. Had any of them on scene had half the courage his brother did, they all could have been out of that building safely before it began to fall apart. Unlike some other members of his family, he could hold her no more accountable than he could hold any of themselves or the broken gas line that had started the fire to begin with.

"I'm just glad I was able to get to you before you fell through as well," he said as the elevator dinged, announcing their arrival on the first floor. He stood and held the doors open as he looked down at the woman his brother had fought so hard to save, unable to feel anything but relief that his efforts hadn't been made in vain. His footing shifted slightly as he cleared his suddenly thick throat. "So, uh, Dad mentioned you'd been wanting to see him...see Edward...and I just wanted to say, don't let Rosie stop you...if that's what you want. Her bark really is worse than her bite."

"Kay...thanks," Bella answered, slightly stunned and unsure of what to say.

He smiled softly once more and nodded as Charlie began pushing her chair out of the elevator, clapping Emmett once on the shoulder as he passed. Bella's mind was racing a mile a minute as they inched away from the elevator, unsure of what to make of his kindness toward her when his wife, she assumed, had been so glacial without a word having even been spoken between them.

"Hey, Emmett," she called out as best she could, turning and leaning into the side of her wheelchair. He stopped the doors from closing and looked at her intently, waiting. "It was nice meeting you."

"You too, Isabella," his lips curled up slightly as his head bobbed just once.

After gorging herself on a breakfast consisting of an omelet, bacon, hash browns, fresh fruit and topping it all off with a slice of strawberry shortcake, as per Ben's orders, Bella, Charlie, and Renee set about purchasing some refreshments for the residents of 6 ICU's waiting room. She and Charlie filled a box with numerous donuts and another with bagels as Renee set about packing a couple containers of fresh fruit. With the help of the staff, they even managed to sequester two full thermal carafes of coffee that either Renee or Charlie would return to the cafeteria once they'd been emptied.

On their way back up to the elevator, Bella's lap held their precious cargo, one thermos on either side of her legs and hands keeping it all from falling off as they rolled along. When the doors opened again to the sixth floor, Bella noticed instantly that Rose was no longer within the waiting room. Emmett was, however, and he sent her a little wave as Charlie and Renee maneuvered her and all of her attachments off the elevator.

"Hey...we brought back...breakfast...for all of you," she said, slightly breathless and realizing belatedly she hadn't replaced her oxygen mask after eating.

Carlisle's head shot over at the sound of her strained voice and he stood instantly to make his way over to them. It truly delighted him seeing her outside of her room, having gotten to know her a little over the past week and having seen how hard she'd been struggling through some of those days.

"You all didn't have to do that, but thank you," he smiled kindly. "I'll get these, sweetie. You get that mask back on. You sound a little winded."

"There should be enough for everyone. Just let us know when the coffee runs out so we can bring the canisters back downstairs," Charlie chimed in, lifting the large thermoses from Bella's sides as she went about affixing her oxygen mask.

"We can get them back down there, really...there are enough of us here," Carlisle chuckled softly. "Did you want to visit for a few? While you're out and about?"

His eyes had focused in on Bella, unsure if she was feeling up to it though she was looking much better than she had in days.

"Please? If it's not...too much trouble," she answered appreciatively.

"Not at all," he shook his head as he started to lead them into the unit.

Bella's heart began to accelerate with every step her parents and Carlisle took, unsure how she'd handle seeing him, but knowing there wasn't a chance she'd change her mind to do so. When they turned the corner, her eyes landed upon a man leaning against the glass doors, his face turned toward her approaching entourage. She knew instantly he had to be the third Cullen brother as he slightly resembled a thinner, more lanky version of Emmett.

"I'm afraid this is about as far as we'll be able to get you with the chair," Carlisle said apologetically.

"I can walk," Bella nodded, lifting her hand to remove her oxygen mask.

"Bella..." Charlie and Renee sighed at the same time, causing the two women in the room to turn and look in their direction.

"Please? It's only...a couple steps, and I'll sit...promise," Bella looked up at them as the older of the two women came toward her.

"Oh Isabella, I'm _so_ happy to see you up and about," she smiled warmly, holding out her hand. "I'm Esme, Edward's mother."

Bella smiled back at her as she took her hand, "It's nice to meet you."

"Honey...I don't think it's a good idea for you to be off your oxygen for long," Renee said worriedly.

"It's okay," the young brunette in the room smiled. "Jasper, help her over and I'll get her hooked up."

Bella's legs were weak as Jasper and Charlie helped her up from the chair. Having not been on them much over the past week, they were a bit shaky but with Jasper's sturdy arm, she made it slowly to Edward's bedside with Charlie pushing her monitor behind them. Once she was settled in her chair, feeling accomplished and panting like she'd just run a marathon even though she'd only walked approximately six feet, the young woman quickly hooked her oxygen tubing up to a valve on the wall before turning her monitor around so she could see her vitals.

"Take some slow deep breaths for me, hon. We want that number right there," she said as she pointed to the large yellow number, "to stay in the high nineties, okay?"

Bella nodded as the woman smiled softly down at her. She couldn't help but notice how puffy and red her eyes were with dark circles resting beneath them. She looked as though she hadn't slept a wink over the last week and it pained Bella to see someone suffering with such heartache. She wondered if she was possibly Edward's wife, as she was sure that had something this tragic happened to her own husband - had she had one - she wouldn't have slept a wink either.

"I'm Alice, by the way. If you need anything, just give a wave. I'll be standing right outside with everyone."

"Thank you, Alice," Bella smiled behind her mask and watched as she retreated from the room.

Bella's eyes traveled up the length of the bed, over the protruding tubes and wires before settling on Edward's face. Her heart shattered as she took in the destruction from his fall, as there was no other word to describe it. Edward was battered and bruised and looked just _horrific_. Tears welled in her eyes as she brought her arm over the side rail, her hand coming to rest over his fist.

Days on end of sitting in her confined room she'd thought of a million things to say in that moment, but finally sitting there at his side, nothing seemed adequate. She wished he could hear her apologize for putting him in that danger and truly thank him for saving her life. She wished he could hear her tell him how she knew he had to be a wonderful person simply because of how so many people had been deeply affected by nearly losing him and that she believed he'd pull through.

Bella said all of it aloud, not caring who heard her because it wasn't the one person she wished could.

Outside the room, six sets of eyes and ears bore witness to a young woman pour her soul into words and her sorrow into tears that spilled down her cheeks and to the floor below. But, out of those six sets of eyes, only one pair saw the beauty of the tragic scene before them.

Alice loved the man in that bed fiercely. He was strong and honorable. Humble and kindhearted. Selfless and brave.

He was everything she could ever want...in a best friend.

She'd been warring back and forth for months on end, just trying to make sense of her life and the turmoil of her emotions. She'd thought she'd been in love with him, and it had seemed so obvious in the midst of the heartache stemming from her failing marriage. But, while it had hurt like hell to be rejected, he'd made her see that it wasn't _him_ she was in love with, but merely the _idea_ of him.

Yes, she loved him fiercely...but just as he could never be to her what she had thought she both needed and wanted, she could never be those things for him either.

The person he deserved to have should be strong and selfless and humble and kindhearted...brave even. She should be everything that he was because he deserved nothing less, and Alice had realized the very night she'd nearly lost him that she wasn't that woman.

But looking in that room and witnessing what she was, coming from a person that should only be concerned over her own health and wellbeing at the moment...

Alice wondered if Bella could be.

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**A/N****: IMPORTANT...PLEASE READ!**

**To keep everyone in the loop so no one's scratching their head if a week passes with no update alerts arriving for this story, I'm going to tell you all that there's a possibility updates may be coming sporadically for a little bit. Due to some health issues I'm having at the moment, and the very probable prospect of surgical intervention on the horizon, I may not have the ability to post as regularly as I have been. As far as I can tell at the moment, as I've been dealing with this issue for quite some time now, I should be able to continue writing and posting as usual until the actual surgery takes place...which I think won't be for at least another couple of weeks yet, but for now, I'm playing it by ear. **

**Now that that's out of the way...Yay! Bella finally got to see Edward! Hahaha. For anyone who didn't get the "Muldowney" nickname, Shirley Muldowney was the "First Lady of Drag Racing", the first woman to ever receive a license from the NHRA (National Hot Rod Association) to drive top fuel dragsters, and she was my childhood idol...not that anyone really cares hahaha. **

**See you all next week, hopefully ^_^ ~Jersey~**


	10. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: Twilight character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. All intellectual properties associated with _Through the Flames_ belong to SparklingTwilight. Plagiarism is theft. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization. Thank you.

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****Sniffles Warning. 1-2 Tissue Rating****

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Cinnamon and Shamrocks

Days continued to pass slowly and along with the continual rising of the sun and moon, came the inching lifting of spirits. Edward continued to hang on in steady form, still oblivious to the world around him due to the chemical sedation, but he'd been lowered from critical to serious but stable condition. Just the word stable alone allowed his family and friends to breathe a fractional bit easier.

By the end of the second week, Bella started making strides in her recovery. Not a day had passed since she'd first entered Edward's room that she hadn't returned, once each morning and once each night. They'd even moved her into a new room, offering her a different view from her window as well as an empty bed beside her own that Renee used nightly since she refused to allow her daughter to spend a single night alone. Her father came by every morning before work and every evening afterward, but it was her third Tuesday in a row as a resident of the sixth floor that she found herself sitting on the edge of her bed, free from being tethered to the wall by a tube, and anxiously awaiting Charlie's arrival.

As the clock struck five in the evening, Bella debated getting up to pace the room, but didn't want to wear herself out before she made her first trek to the ICU upon nothing more than her own two feet and without needing to trail an oxygen tank behind her. She'd been working diligently with the respiratory and physical therapists to increase her pulmonary function and strength. The first time she'd managed to make it to the bathroom and back on her own without becoming lightheaded from exertion had felt like a tremendous triumph.

Her healing, however, was a double edged sword.

For every degree of the return of her health that she was granted, she was reminded that the man who'd saved her had yet to even take his first breath upon his own accord.

The waiting room outside of the ICU on the sixth floor had slowly cleared over the course of days that passed. One by one people began to return to their daily lives, save for the Cullen family and the frequent presence of Alec, who Bella had met and learned was Edward's best friend. Visitors still trickled in daily, but where they'd once inhabited the stuffy room for countless hours on end, they now only came, visited, and left again.

Bella still had no plans on leaving for any lengthy span of time. Not even after she was discharged the following morning as her doctor had informed she would be.

She was adequately breathing on her own without having to constantly rely upon an oxygen source. She was getting stronger by the day, and the fluid in her lungs had cleared for the most part. There was no reason to keep her under constant observation any longer. They'd even taken her off the monitors and removed her IV, and come morning, they'd ensure she had a portable source of oxygen for emergency usage and a stationary unit for home usage before sending her on her way into outpatient care.

Bella was, by no means, completely recovered. There wasn't even a guarantee that she ever would or could be either for that matter. Her doctor had explained that victims of excessive smoke and toxin inhalation, as she was, frequently suffered for the rest of their lives with chronic obstructive pulmonary disorder. Her lungs had been permanently damaged and scarred, and because of that, illnesses as mild as a chest cold could potentially hospitalize her again in the future. The knowledge of that worried her parents tremendously, but Bella took it in stride. She was alive and that, in and of itself, was both a blessing and a miracle.

As the door to her new room opened, she stood from the bed anxiously, earning herself a smirk and shake of the head from her mother as she looked up from her Sudoku puzzle.

"Did you get it? Was there enough in my account?" she asked as Charlie strode into the room. She was fairly sure she'd had enough to cover the item in her checking account, but she'd never been a master at balancing her checkbook.

"Yes, I got it, and no there wasn't so I transferred part of your savings into your checking account before I went," Charlie responded.

"Did you..."

"Yes, Bella," Charlie laughed, cutting her off because he already knew what she was about to ask as he held out the small box toward her.

She bit her bottom lip nervously as she began to lift the lid to the small black velvet box, hoping it was as beautiful as the picture Tanya and Irina had sent to her mother's cell phone. She was fairly certain her best friends were going to beat her to a pulp the next time she saw them for all the running around they did trying to find "_the one_", but once the lid was lifted...she was absolutely positive the beating would be well worth it.

Bella smiled as her finger delicately traced the intricate white gold Maltese medallion bearing Saint Florian within the outline of a clover. It combined everything she wished it to; his profession's patron Saint, the shape of the cross signifying the eight points of courage, and a clover as a link to his Irish heritage. Her smile widened even further as she turned it over and read the words she'd asked Charlie to have engraved on the back in an elegant script.

Valor. Strength. Bravery.

"Are you happy with it?" Charlie smirked, an eyebrow lifting as he crossed his arms over his chest. Personally, he thought it was a bit ludicrous for her to have spent so much money when there had been many other options - many much less expensive options that didn't equate to an entire month's rent - that would have served the same purpose, but he wasn't about to attempt arguing with her over it. He knew once she set her mind and heart on something, there was little one could do to change it.

There was that...and the fact that his daughter's life was worth _infinitely_ more than what he'd dropped in that jewelry store. He'd conceded to letting her pay for the medallion on her own, but he and Renee had contributed to the gift with the purchase of the chain it hung from...which had been nearly as much as the medallion itself.

"Very...thank you," she smiled, stepping forward to wrap her arms around her parents.

Nearly ten minutes later they finally made it to Edward's room with only minimal incident. The incident had come when Bella had been thrown into a coughing fit by a sharp intake of breath after someone had turned a corner in a hurry and nearly knocked both her and Renee over.

"There you are," Esme smiled warmly as she spotted Bella and her parents entering the doorway. "I was beginning to wonder if you were coming back tonight."

"You should know by now nothing can keep me away," Bella returned her smile as she approached the side of his bed where Esme stood. "Where is everyone tonight?"

"They just left about a half hour ago to get some dinner, they should be back soon though. Here, honey...take my seat," Esme offered as she rose from her chair and held her hand out for Bella to take. While Bella wasn't wheezing or obviously struggling, she was slightly out of breath and that was more than enough to cause Esme concern.

"I hope you don't mind...but we got him a little gift," Bella said as she lowered herself into the seat. She held out the velvety box toward Esme and shifted in her seat, slightly nervous. She wasn't sure how his family would react to the gift, even though Charlie's medallion hadn't seemed to bother them.

"Oh, Bella...it's absolutely beautiful," Esme gushed with teary eyes, fingering the charm delicately. It warmed her heart that such a sweet girl would bestow such a generous and meaningful gift to her son.

"Was this one blessed by Father Sheehan too?" Esme quirked a teasing smile down at her, having heard the story behind Charlie's medallion from Renee at some point over the last few weeks.

"Sure enough was," Charlie chuckled as Bella's cheeks heated in slight embarrassment. While she no longer held the childhood belief that the biggest church was God's favorite, his family _was_ Catholic so it only seemed right to have it blessed by a priest of their denomination.

"It's perfect, Bella, thank you. I'm sure he'll love it," Esme said, passing the box back to her and giving her a warm hug in appreciation.

"How's he doing?" Renee asked as she and Charlie stood on the opposite side of the bed watching as Bella threaded the chain and charm into Edward's hand. She wished she could clasp it around his neck, but it would be a while yet before she could do that.

Esme sighed as she gently ran the backs of her fingers down Edward's temple and over his ear, "They've been weaning him off the sedatives and paralytics over the last few days and his doctors say it's pretty much just a waiting game now until he wakes up. I'm worried though because they said it's not uncommon for patients to wake up for brief moments during the weaning process...but he hasn't. Not unless we've all just missed him doing so. Alice thinks it might be because of the pain medication they have him on though. We're hoping that's the case."

"Why would pain medicine have an influence on him waking up?" Renee asked curiously as Bella reached out to take his hand and gently rub the back of it, trying to get some warmth into it. His hands had been freezing ever since his fever had broken and she severely disliked the idea that he might be able to feel that chill and it might add to his discomfort.

"He doesn't do well with narcotic pain relievers. He won't take them at all if he can manage because they make him too groggy," Esme smiled sadly, tracing one of his eyebrows with the edge of her thumb. "They gave him Vicodin a few years ago when he had a wisdom tooth pulled, and they told him to take one before the Lidocaine wore off to keep his discomfort down. He did and nearly fell asleep behind the wheel on the way home. Thankfully Alec had passed where he'd pulled off to the side of the road and made sure he got home safely. Needless to say, the prescription went right in the trash as soon as he got home. Ever since then, no matter how much pain he's in, he won't take anything more than over the counter pain relievers."

Just as Esme's final words left her lips, Edwards torso began to spasm; jerky movements as it rose and fell and the humming ventilator next to Charlie and Renee started wailing an ear grating alarm. The sound startled three of the room's inhabitants, but Esme calmly lowered herself and placed a tender kiss upon Edward's forehead.

"What is that? What's wrong?" Bella asked worriedly, her eyes darting between her parents, Edward, and Esme.

"Nothing's wrong, sweetie. He's just coughing and it interrupts the flow of the machine," Esme said as she smoothed the back of Bella's hair down in a comforting maternal gesture. She'd grown quite fond of Bella over the last two weeks since she'd started coming to visit Edward and she couldn't help but wish that maybe, once he recovered, there might be a chance they could find in each other what both of their lives were sorely lacking.

Having spent countless hours with Bella in Edward's room, Esme had come to know her rather well. They'd spent hours on end talking and getting to know each other, and when Bella would run short of breath, Esme would tell her stories about Edward and her other children from their younger days. Days when things weren't as complicated or strained as they'd become as of late. It was through those stories that Bella had come to feel as though she knew a part of the man that saved her life, but it was also through those same stories that she began to feel something more than profound gratitude toward him.

She no longer wanted to be there just to help him as he'd done for her, she wanted to befriend him. She wanted to know not only who he'd been as a child and teenager, but who he was now and who he'd be in the future. She wanted to truly _know_ the amazing man who so many respected and adored.

Bella just hoped he'd feel he had the room in his life for another friend when he clearly had so many already.

"That's a good thing though, right? That he's coughing?" Bella asked as she gently squeezed his now warm hand between her own.

"It is," Esme smiled and nodded to her. "They said it's a sign he's trying to breathe on his own."

Bella's eyes traveled back to Edward's face as her parents and Renee continued talking with one another. Their voices began to fade into a muffled hum as she focused solely on Edward and hoped and prayed that he'd begin to wake soon. There was so much, so many moments that had been stolen from him, that she wanted to tell him about just to see him smile the way he did in many of the pictures adorning the walls of his room.

She wanted him to laugh the way she did when his brother, Emmett, pretended to be an astronaut on the moon with her oxygen mask just to make her smile when she was feeling down one day the previous week. She wanted to tell him how his brothers and Alec had schooled her in poker one night and took her entire stash of candy winnings from games with her favorite nurse, Ben, and how Carlisle had stolen it from them and snuck it back into her room. She even wanted to tell him how Alice had come to her room and painted each of her toes a different color after she and Renee helped her finally get in a decent shower.

Bella didn't know why she felt so compelled to tell him what an incredible family he had, but she did. There was just something in the way they would look at him with remorse in their eyes that led her to believe that maybe he wasn't aware of how truly wonderful they all were. The only person that had remained distanced from her was Rose, and Bella understood and tried not to let it bother her, but even _she_ looked at him with those sad, regretful eyes.

The only one who didn't was Alec.

It confounded her because she couldn't fathom, for the life of her, the answer as to why they all felt so remorseful. So many times she wanted to ask, but she felt as though her questioning something that obviously didn't pertain to her would be intrusive and impolite and she didn't wish to treat those that had been so kind to her that way. It worried her severely that they might have legitimate reasons for their guilt, and that thought pained her deeply because if it was true, he wouldn't have deserved it. She knew that much to be unquestionable.

Bella had learned so much about the man in the bed before her from each of them. Through their eyes, hearts, and memories, she knew him to be a man of amazing inner strength and character. Their stories portrayed him as a genuine kindhearted soul who was selfless to a fault, proud and passionate about his career, and as humble and down to earth as any man could possibly be.

Their stories painted him in a light of perfection that _no_ person could possibly live up to, and that worried her even more. She often found herself wondering if he'd lived under the constant pressure of living up to their expectations and what carrying around that suffocating weight must have felt like to him.

After an hour or so Bella's parents departed the room, heading home so they could make sure everything was in place for her homecoming. Bella had been so lost in her thoughts and worries in that moment that she acknowledged their parting with no more than a nod and blank glance in their direction. As her gaze landed back upon Edward's face, a seemingly bizarre question left her lips in just above a whisper.

"What color are his eyes?"

None of the pictures in his room had been up close enough for her to be able to tell, and she wondered if they were a greenish brown hue like Carlisle's, or a golden flecked brown like Esme's. She wanted to know what color would shine at the world when he finally opened them, and it was only the idleness of that curiosity that could tame the worry she held for what heartaches they may hold within their depths.

"Shamrock green...just like his grandfather's only more vibrant. They're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," Esme smiled wistfully, wishing she could see them right then.

It had been too long for Esme since she'd last been able to look into the mossy depths of her son's eyes. She missed them greatly for they truly were windows into his soul, so expressive they were that she rarely needed more than just a glimpse into them to tell her what he was feeling. They glowed when he was happy, dulled when he was gloomy or upset, and sparked fire when he was angry. His eyes were his only feature he'd never been able to conceal behind a shielding mask when he wanted others to believe everything was okay with him, and at that moment, she needed reassurance from them. She felt as though she'd aged a century from anxiety and worry over the last few weeks and desperately needed a slight sign of hope that would enable her to let go of just a fraction of it.

"Mom, sorry we took so long, but Dad wanted to get Edward's lawn mowed tonight since it's supposed to rain for the next few days. We brought you back some chicken marsala...is that okay?" Emmett's deep voice cut through the silence that had descended between the two women.

"That's fine, dear," she nodded as she rose from her seat beside Bella and turned her gaze down to her. "Would you like some? I'm sure there's more than plenty to share if you're hungry."

Bella smiled up at her, thankful for her offer, "No thank you, Esme. I'm not hungry and mushrooms and I are arch nemeses of one another."

"You don't like 'shrooms?" Em questioned, slightly amused. There hadn't been much he'd noted that Bella _wouldn't_ eat over the last two weeks.

"Nope, not a fan of the fungi, I'm afraid," she shrugged as her nose scrunched up. "It's kind of a rule of principle...ya know? I've never been tempted to lick mildew off a shower wall or eat anything that was growing a fur coat, so why consider putting it in my food on purpose? Don't eat mold...seems like a healthy choice."

Esme barely concealed her snort-like snigger but Emmett full out laughed as he shook his head, "You're a trip, ya know that?"

Bella smiled softly as she bobbed her head in a noncommittal fashion. She'd never been called a trip before, but eccentric, strange, or just plain _odd_ had been familiar terms she'd heard throughout her teen years. She briefly wondered if there was a difference or if she should feel offended, but decided it didn't matter. She was who she was and she'd come to terms with the fact that she was a little..._off_, years ago. It's not like she was crazy or anything, she just didn't conform to society's stereotypical moulds.

She wasn't a size two or overly concerned with her sense of fashion. She wouldn't choose a salad over a greasy, cheesy burger dependent upon whose company she was in, and if you asked her what an accessory was, she'd tell you it was someone who helped a criminal perpetrate a crime. The only piece of jewelry she ever wore was a ring she'd gotten out of one of those quarter machines on the way out of a store when she was about twelve. She and her best friend at the time, Lauren, had both gotten one and wore them on their thumbs like friendship rings.

The blue paint on Bella's had faded and worn off, much like their friendship, but the ring became a permanent fixture on her finger. As she'd grown over the years, the ring hadn't and had eventually become stuck within the space between her first and second knuckles. No amount of dish soap, lotion, or oil could get it off, and by her sophomore year of college - two years after the end of their friendship - she'd given up and just accepted it as a permanent part of her body...like a birthmark you wish would go away but you're too afraid to have surgically removed.

As she watched Esme and Emmett leave the room to eat their dinners, she silently admired Lauren's bravery in having her own ring cut off her finger a week before high school graduation. Her high school boyfriend, Jake, had tried to cut hers off the night before the ceremony with a pair of garden shears...and accidentally cut her finger. She'd walked across the stage with a thumb the size of a cucumber from all the gauze her father had wrapped around the injury and the experience had staved her off from extreme methods of removal from that point onward.

She looked down at her thumb, the now dull silver colored ring and white line of a remaining scar glinting back up at her as the setting sun shone the last of its rays through the window. The ring no longer served as a memory of a friendship that turned sour, or a boyfriend that meant well but inadvertently continuously "accidentally" hurt her. The only thing it served to remind her of anymore was to not live her life in constant fear of everything. To not be afraid to just be who she was instead of hiding that person from the outside world. To not be afraid to end a relationship when she should just because ending it might mean ending the friendship as well. And, to not be afraid of only having a handful of _true_ friends instead of an endless list of false ones.

That ring served as a constant reminder that while she'd had friends and an intimate lover back then, she hadn't been as happy as she was now; single, true to herself, and able to count those she loved and held dear in her heart on one hand.

Bella sighed as she scooted her chair closer to the bed and took Edward's hand once again between her own, the dull, scraped, and scuffed silver of her thumb ring appearing morose beside the vibrant gleam of his white gold chain. Her eyes traveled over his blanketed form while her thumb stroked across his knuckles rhythmically as she let her mind wander.

"You know," she began speaking softly, her vision coming back into focus as she turned her eyes to his face. "I used to live my life in fear. I mean...not just in fear of things that are actually scary, but _everything_."

She brought one arm up to the rail and rested her head against it as her thumb continued moving back and forth across the back of his hand, "I think the thing that scared me most when I was younger was letting go of people in my life. I had this belief that everyone that came into your life, came into it for a reason and they belonged there to stay.

"It took me years to realize that some people are only meant to come into your life to teach you a lesson, and then it's time to let them go because holding onto them will only do you damage..."

Her words were cut off by the ventilator's alarms as he started coughing once again. She rubbed his forearm soothingly until he'd relaxed once again.

"I worry about you. Your family's told me so many stories about you and they all seem to place you on this precarious pedestal of perfection. I'd like to believe that it just seems that way because they only want to think about your shining moments right now, that they only want to think about the good times...but something in the way they all look at you as if they're sorry for something horrific makes me think otherwise. I just hope, whatever it is they think they've done, you can forgive them for when you wake up, because I don't think they're the kind of people that come into your life that you're supposed to let go of eventually."

She chewed the inside of her cheek for a few minutes, wondering what to talk to him about. She didn't really mind the silence when no one was around and talking, but she wasn't sure if somehow he was aware of it and it bothered him but he had no way to express his discontent, so she tried to talk to him as much as she could. It may have seemed odd to some, but she knew that if it were her in his position, she'd want someone to talk to her even if she couldn't respond.

As his family ate their dinners inside the ICU waiting room, and Bella did her best to soothe him with her voice and touch, the endless darkness began to swirl around Edward's awareness. The muffled and indecipherable sound of someone's voice filtered into his mind as warmth in areas of his body he couldn't pinpoint slowly began to burn and send sharp shooting pains through every inch he could feel.

He tried to grasp at anything below his hands to clench against the pain rocketing through him, but he felt like they weren't connected to him. He could feel something feather light and warm moving against his left hand, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't make his hand move to grab it.

"Your brother Emmett's kind of a handful, isn't he? I bet he keeps you all on your toes," the edges of her lips curled up as she thought of something to tell him about. "He came to my room a few days ago with Jasper, Alec, your dad, and Alice and insisted we all play _Pictionary_. On the fourth round, he drew a picture of male genitalia and tried to claim it was _Bullwinkle_. Your dad yelled at him and told him to grow up. It really didn't look anything like _Bullwinkle_, but then again, his dragon didn't look like one either..."

She stopped talking as he started coughing again and her brow furrowed as her head lifted and lips turned down into a frown. His eyes were moving behind his eyelids and she stood from her seat, worried.

On the inside, Edward struggled against the darkness, trying to focus and clear the confusion in his mind. Everything felt detached and sounded far away as if he were under water...everything but the damn pain burning him alive.

"Hey...shhh...shhh, it's okay, just relax," Bella cooed softly as she passed her hand over his forehead and into his hair as multiple alarms started sounding from all around his bed. "Don't fight it...just let it do the work for you."

His eyelids fluttered, sending bright flashes of blinding light into his eyes and shredding shards of pain through his head. His chest felt ready to implode as another burst of unexpected air made him choke and cough again.

"Alice!" Bella cried out, seeing her approaching the room quickly. "What's wrong? He was fine a minute ago."

"Crap," Alice breathed, sliding past Bella to quickly assess his vitals on the monitor. "He's in too much pain."

"Edward hold on, honey," Peanut's distorted voice rose above the warbled tone of the one that had first filtered into his ears. He wanted to yell out to her to stop the pain he was feeling, but when he tried, he started choking and coughing again.

Room 635 was the site of mass confusion and teetering hopes as half a dozen people crowded the left side of Edward's bed. His eyelids fluttered again as tears began to build within them in response to the agony he was in. The voices of his parents and brothers were all mixing together with the cacophony of a dozen alarm clocks, leaving him feeling disoriented and bewildered.

His eyes opened, only long enough to blink and shut again against the harsh light and hazy blur. Hope soared through the bodies in the room as he fought to open his eyes again and focus on their faces. He blinked repeatedly, feeling like his eyelids were the only thing he had control over as he tried to overcome the searing pain he felt and clear his vision.

"Eddie, blink if you can hear me, honey," Peanut's voice broke through again over the chaotic noise. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to let himself fight against that damn repetitive bursting of air that would make him cough again when all he wanted to do was scream out in pain.

"Your nurse is pushing Fentanyl into your IV...it'll take the pain away, just hang in there for a few more seconds," he heard her as he felt her slip her hand into his other hand. He tried so hard to squeeze back against her, but he couldn't. It was a terrifying feeling and made sheer panic course through his veins as his eyes opened once again and finally focused...and when they did, he was locked into the gaze of a pair of rich and endlessly deep cinnamon colored eyes.

He knew instinctively that those beautiful large almond shaped eyes belonged with the soft, strangely familiar, voice he'd heard. He'd never seen them open, but he recognized them instantly just the same. And as the pain began to numb and the darkness began to creep into his mind once again, her name echoed through his mind...

_Bella._

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**A/N****: Thank you all so much for the get well wishes. Sorry this chapter was a little late, hopefully...let's keep our fingers crossed...next week's update will be on time. Thanks for reading! C ya'll next week! ~Jersey~**


	11. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Twilight character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. All intellectual properties associated with _Through the Flames_ belong to SparklingTwilight. Plagiarism is theft. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization. Thank you.

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****Sniffles Warning. 1-2 Tissue Rating****

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The Sting of Deception

At seven forty eight pm on Tuesday July 28th, Edward's eyes opened for the first time in three weeks. At seven fifty one and sixteen seconds, they closed again. Of those three glorious minutes, Bella had spent thirty nine seconds locked in his focused gaze.

_Shamrocks...green Ireland pastures...flecks of golden coins...bewilderment...__**pain**__._

As Edward's family wept and held each other, a mix of profound relief, hope, and an inkling of joy radiating from their huddled bodies, Bella slowly backed away from the bed. When her back collided with the wall, the air that had gotten trapped in her chest when his eyes locked on hers left her lungs, leaving her gasping shallowly. Her eyes were still locked on his closed ones as her heart shattered into a million pieces for him.

Tears gathered in her eyes, blurring her vision. They closed slowly, pushing the moisture between her lids and sending the droplets cascading down her cheeks. She wanted so badly to share in the relief his family was feeling, but they hadn't seen in his eyes what she had. They hadn't seen the sheer agony or desperate scream for help swimming in those tortured eyes.

She tried to listen to the tearful words of his family, but all she could hear was the finally slowing beeps of his heart monitor. Had no one else heard the frantic pace of that beeping? Had no one other than her heard how the chirps had been so close together they almost sounded as if he were flat lining?

Bella's mind raced as her eyes remained closed, Edward's anguished gaze flashing violently in her mind's eye. Was he still in pain? Was he still aware of everything and everyone around him? Was he trapped inside his motionless form, screaming and crying out for help but no one could hear him?

As her eyes began to open, words, almost inaudible words began to fall from her lips as her tears continued their trek towards her jaw and down to the floor. A gasp from her left had her eyes guiltily turning toward the sound as a fresh round tears welled up and spilled down her face.

"_Isabella_, don't you _ever_ think that way," Esme chastised, her heart breaking at what she'd heard come from such a beautiful and caring young woman.

"It's true," Bella shook her head as her eyes closed once again. "It should have been me...not him. He shouldn't have been in there...he shouldn't have gone in there at all."

A pair of warm, soft arms wrapped around her trembling frame, but they did nothing to protect her from the cold voice that perfectly matched the glacial blue eyes she'd encountered frequently over the passing days.

"You're right...it _should_ be you in that bed."

"_Rosalie_," a chorus of voices erupted, ranging from shocked and appalled to infuriated. Esme's arms tightened around Bella's frame as a silent sob broke free from her chest. Bella felt herself being turned, held tightly to Esme's chest as she covered one of Bella's ears with her hand.

"Don't _Rosalie_ me. It's true! What kind of idiot doesn't even _try_ to escape a burning building?" she spat, her tone saturated with disdain.

Esme tried her best to shield her from the hurtful words, but her efforts were made in vain. Bella could hear every word being spoken with crystal clarity.

"You're a piece of crap, you know that?" Alice's disgusted voice cut in. "She couldn't have helped having a panic attack in that situation any more than you or I could have. That's _not_ her fault."

"Girls, enough. This is not the time nor the place..."

"No, Carlisle," Alice cut him off. "She has no damn right to blame a _victim_ for what happened to Edward. It was _his _decision to go in there and regardless of what happened to him, I can _guarantee _you he wouldn't take that decision back. Ever. Because that'swho he _is_ and she's a miserable self centered shit for trying to make someone feel bad about surviving."

As heated words jumbled together and continued to be thrown back and forth across the room, Bella tried to extract herself from Esme's firm embrace. His family should have still been embracing one another and experiencing an ounce of relief after an eternity of heartache and worry.

"Please stop..." Bella croaked, turning away from Esme and facing Rosalie straight on. Tears continued to blur her vision, but she tried her damnedest to swallow her own hurt and fix the mistake she'd made by letting her thought slip past her lips.

"It's okay," she nodded once, looking only at Rose. "You can be angry at me. I don't blame you, but please...don't fight with your family." Her gaze shifted from Rose to flicker between everyone else in the room. "None of you should be fighting right now, and I'm sorry to have been the reason you are...excuse me."

Her words lodged in her throat as she tried to make her way past Edward's family. She could feel all their gazes on her as she tried to squeeze by Rosalie's unmoving form, the chill coming off of her terribly unnerving. She couldn't be sure if the others had remained silent because they felt the same as Rose did or if they were just too appalled to say anything, but the silence beneath the machinery within the room was near deafening as she tried to make her escape.

As she made it into the overly bright hallway, she heard Carlisle's stern voice emanate from behind her.

"Rosalie, that was extremely uncalled for. She and her parents have been _nothing_ but supportive to our family."

"Maybe...but it wasn't long ago that _you_ blamed her too, Carlisle."

Bella's watery gaze remained fixed to the floor as she hugged the hallway wall on her way out of the ICU. Her heart throbbed in her chest for all the pain that she, and what should have been her misfortune, had caused Edward and his family. As she turned the corner, she collided with someone's solid form and apologized instinctively while maneuvering around them without raising her eyes.

She had no desire to look anyone in the face at the moment, no desire for anyone to see her own heartache that she almost felt she had no right to feel. Even though she held herself responsible in her own mind, Rosalie's words had cut her deeply. She'd known since that first glacial gaze that Rose had blamed her, but she hadn't known the others had felt the same way as well.

A hand reached out to wrap around her upper arm, and with it, came a softly spoken deep voice, "Hey...you okay?"

She immediately recognized the voice as Alec's and she nodded silently, her face still cast down toward the floor.

"You need some help getting back to your room?" he asked, his tone disclosing his sincere concern.

"No, I'll be fine...thank you though," she responded with a trembling voice as she stepped away. Her eyes flickered up to his for a single moment and she tried to smile appreciatively but it fell flat. Severely flat.

Alec sighed as he watched her slowly walk away, not believing her for a second but not wanting to impose where his help or company wasn't wanted. He hated seeing her so visibly upset and not being able to do anything about it. Not many people would have stood by the bedside of a fallen firefighter as she'd been doing. Not with the consistency she and her family had been. His heart hurt for her as she turned the corner and out of his line of view, but as he turned his own and saw the entire Cullen family inside Edward's room, anger began to course through his veins. She'd just left his room, obviously upset, and not a single person in that room had followed her. They were too damn involved with bickering amongst themselves as usual to bother worrying about anyone else.

Alec stood in place for a moment, contemplating if he was really up to enduring a few minutes of the Cullen's customary rivalry after such a long and tiring day. In truth, he'd wanted nothing more than to just head back to the station house and get a few solid hours of sleep, but he wouldn't have been able to rest peacefully without at least checking in to see how his best friend was doing. As his footsteps slowly began to move forward, bits and pieces of the family's hushed argument began to drift into his hearing, further slowing his steps as confusion and anger swirled within him.

"Dammit, Rose. Will you _stop_?" Carlisle's voice raised above the others. "I understand why you feel the way you do, but it _isn't_ her fault. When I said what I did...I was angry and hurt and scared. It wasn't right for me to feel that way then and it's not right for you to feel that way now."

"But it's _true_! If she hadn't been in that damn building, he wouldn't have gotten hurt!"

Alec's fists clenched at his sides as, one by one, members of the Cullen family noticed his presence just outside the doorway.

"Tell me I didn't just hear what I did, because for a minute there, I'd swear I just lost what little bit of respect for this family I had left," Alec muttered once all eyes were on him, his anger and confusion having given way to incredulous disgust.

"Alec..." Carlisle started as Alec shook his head and held up a hand to stop him.

"Did she hear this? Did Bella hear this bullshit? Is that why she was so distraught a minute ago?" His question was answered with a solemn nod and pairs upon pairs of guilt ridden eyes. "Un-fucking-believable."

"Alec...where are you going?" Carlisle called after him, trying to make his way through his family members and out the door.

"To visit the only conscious person in this place worth being around," he scoffed and spun around as Carlisle gripped his shoulder. His bluish gray eyes hardened and flashed as he came face to face with the man he'd come to know as a second father as well as respect as a superior officer. "_Don't_. I don't really care what you or anyone else in there has to say. Weeks, Carlisle. _Weeks_ she's been coming here to see him, spending hours in a plastic chair when she should have been in her bed recovering. How many victims and their families would do that, huh? How many would sit here day in and day out, bending over backwards to do anything they can for all of you instead of heading back to their own lives after a few simple words of thank you or I'm sorry for your loss?"

He didn't bother to wait for Carlisle to answer, because they both knew the answer. They'd experienced it and witnessed it too many times to be unaware of the glaring truth of their hard pressed reality.

"_None_," he answered for him, his steely eyes shifting back and forth between Carlisle's. "She's different, Carlisle. She's kind and compassionate, warm, funny, and caring. He'd be goddamn lucky to know someone like her after all the shit he's been put through in his life, and I'll be damned if I let all of you take that opportunity away from him."

Carlisle's eyes sank to the floor as his hands fell to his sides. He hadn't needed to be told what a wonderful young woman Bella was to feel guilty. He already did, incredibly so, and even more so now that she'd heard those venomous words borne from festering heartache and grief.

"Please tell her..."

"No," Alec cut him off. For years they all had grown too accustomed to Edward taking care of their needs, whatever they may be, and Bella deserved more than a secondhand apology. "You have something to say to her, you say it to her yourself."

As the nightly overhead announcement began droning on, alerting the hospital's occupants of the arrival of eight thirty pm and the end of visiting hours, Alec let his final words hang in the air and turned to make his way out of the unit. At that same moment, Bella sat in a chair in the corner of her darkened room, a stone statue with cloudy eyes raining teardrops down her smooth skin.

Somewhere, beyond the reach of the bright city lights, stars began to twinkle as the moon climbed to its peak in the clear summer night sky — but much like how the artificial lights surrounding her on Earth dimmed the brilliance of the stars, hurtful words dimmed the brilliance of Bella's spirit. She'd returned to her room phone ringing, and after a very short call in which she'd said little to nearly nothing at all, her parents bid her goodnight and promised to pick her up first thing in the morning.

Alone she sat in her sterile room, veiled by the steadily darkening night, and while the solitude allowed her to purge her sadness in private, she longed for the soothing comfort of her mother's arms. She missed her old room, the one that afforded her the up close view of the very tip of a tree. Where her new one gave her a view of Mt. Rainier off in the far distance during the day, in her old one she felt as though she could almost touch the leaves of the tree if she pressed her hand right up against the glass. She'd spent hours in that room with her hand against that chilled window, willing the breeze to bring the leaves closer to her fingers. Now, her fingers touched nothing but cold glass with a distant view of life held so far out of her reach it might as well exist in an entirely different world.

Another wave of sadness crashed over her as the streetlamp closest to her room flickered out and cast her further into the shadows of her inner and surrounding darkness. Her heart throbbed for the distress she'd caused Edward's family, and she wished with everything in her that she could take it away; that she could alter the past and give them back their loved one...but she couldn't.

A light rapping at her door drew her from her pensive state and she wiped at her face with her hands as she called out permission to enter with a voice strained by her tears.

"What are you...doing here?" she asked, swallowing down the lump that had risen in her throat at seeing Alec's towering form enter her room, bathed in light from the hall that hurt her eyes. "You should be with the Cullens."

Alec paused as the door shut behind him, nearly blinded momentarily by the darkness within her room. Once his eyes adjusted, however, the lack of light did nothing to hide the puffiness of her eyes. "Edward's got enough idiots crowding his room...one less won't hurt him."

"Mind if I sit?" he asked, gesturing to the chair across from her as he traversed the room. He wanted to laugh at the bewildered look on her face as she shook her head slowly, but the lingering visual evidence of her tears and knowing what had been said to her forbid him from being able to do so.

He lowered himself into the chair and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he appraised her closely in the faint moonlight. "You okay?"

Bella nodded, unsure of what to say or even why he was visiting her when visiting hours had just ended. Truth be told, his presence in her room was unsettling because, from what she'd come to know of Alec thus far, he had a penchant for speaking bluntly. She wasn't sure if she could handle finding out that he of all people had been veiling his true thoughts of her as all the Cullens had. It wasn't entirely that they blamed her that tore her to shreds, but the fact that they'd deceived her with false kindness toward her.

When she'd told Rose that it was okay for her to feel the way she did, she'd been sincere. Rose had never disguised her contempt, but the others had and that's what pained her more than any words ever could. Bella couldn't even been sure if Alice's defense in her honor had been sincere or out of sheer politeness because of her presence in the room.

"You know...when you first came to visit Edward, I didn't know what to make of you," Alec started speaking softly. "I'll be the first to admit I figured you'd visit once or twice, maybe send a get well soon card or something at some point before you got discharged and then be on your way like most people do...but then you came back a third time."

He leaned back in his chair as he thought about the first few days he spent trying to get to know her, how he tried leveling Edward's family's grand tales of his perfection with sobering tales of his fallible humanity just to see if casting him in tarnished light would quell her desire to continuously support the Cullen family. He'd worried that Edward's brothers had begun to instill a hero worship complex in her with their stories of his shining moments, but they hadn't. In fact, she'd once turned to him after a sordid tale of how Edward had taken his mother's car for a midnight joyride when he was fourteen and told him it was refreshing to hear that he was indeed human and made mistakes occasionally.

That was the day he put down the act and really started getting to know her, because that was the moment he knew she was different. She wasn't like other women in Edward's past, friends and otherwise, that would become starry eyed with greed after a period of time and run him into the ground with their expectations of him. She wasn't like other people in Edward's life who would throw their garbage at his feet because he would help them clean it up.

Bella wasn't like nearly everyone in his life who would hurt him with their disappointment every time he fell from that damn pedestal they placed him upon — and he needed more people in his life like her. People who accepted his flaws along with his strengths. People who understood he was just a man; not a hero, not a God, and not infallible or indestructible by any means.

"What I'm trying to say is that things aren't always what they seem to be. Just like how you turned out to be completely different from the person I'd assumed you'd be, the Cullens might not be what you're thinking them to be right now. You want the chance to save Edward's life the way he saved yours? Give him the chance to get to know you and the opportunity to be your friend."

Bella's head tilted to the side slightly as she looked at Alec questioningly and the question she was mulling over in her head spilled from her lips, "How would being his friend save his life? That doesn't make any sense, especially when it's my fault he's hurt to start with. I'd just cause him more stress the way I did his family."

"First of all, fuck what his family said, thinks, or feels," he bristled, hating the guilt saturating her words. "He's not in that bed because of something _you_ did wrong. It wasn't your fault, Bella. If they want someone to blame, they can set that pedestal they all hold him upon on fire and blame him because he was the one that disobeyed direct orders that night. He chose to go in there for you and he chose not to come back out without you. That's _not_ _your fault_," he stressed adamantly.

"Second of all, Edward needs people like you and me in his life. If that fall through the floor didn't put him six feet under, his family eventually will because their heads are shoved too far up their asses to see straight enough to realize they put way too much pressure on him. Not one of them puts his needs before their own, yet, for the last few weeks, you've put his welfare ahead of your own...a complete stranger can do what his own family can't. So tell me, Bella...can you see how being his friend would save his life?"

She felt fresh tears well up in her eyes as her fears of why his family always looked down upon him with sorrowful eyes were confirmed. She tried not to let them fall, but one escaped as she nodded weakly to him.

"I'll try," she sighed as she swiped away at her tears. "But I think it's probably best if I stay away until he wakes up for longer than a few minutes and they take him off the vent. I don't want to burden his family or him with my presence if it's not wanted."

"Longer than a few minutes? He woke up today?" Alec asked with confused hope.

"Yeah, about an hour ago or so," she nodded, her brow furrowing in confusion. "Didn't anyone tell you when you were in there?"

"Uh...no," he mumbled as he shook his head slightly, avoiding her moonlit gaze as he picked at the arm of the chair. "I didn't actually make it into the room after catching the tail end of an argument they were having with each other."

Bella's eyes fell to her lap at his words. He hadn't made it in to see Edward or hear of his progress because of her even though she'd left the room. It seemed no matter what she did she affected someone somehow and it was disheartening.

"I'm sorry you didn't get to see him. I'd hoped they would have stopped arguing once I left...but apparently not," she said quietly, sighing afterwards and rubbing her hands over her face.

"Hey...it's no biggie and it's not your fault. They all fight all the time anyway so it's nothing out of the norm for them. At any rate...I should head back to the station and let you get some rest," Alec said as he began to rise from his chair.

"You're working right now?" Bella asked, confused because he wasn't wearing his typical uniform.

"Nah, I'm not on again until Friday but I've been crashing there since the soon to be ex-wife served me the big "D" papers," he chuckled as he stretched his six foot three frame.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Bella smirked up at him, having already been told of his celebratory stance on his impending divorce. "I'd offer you my couch...but I don't have one anymore."

"Yeah, well..." he sniggered. "Gimme a shout when ya get set up with a new one because I might need a roomie until I can get out of my mortgage. Rent around here on anyplace decent is insane."

"Will do," she chuckled lightly as he bent down to give her a hug.

She watched him walk through the dark room with a faint smile that his kindness had created. If anything good at all had come out of the tragic ordeal, it was meeting him. She appreciated his candid demeanor more than she could ever express. He never acted or spoke with false sincerity for the sake of civility or courtesy, but it was his ability to look past his heartache and befriend her that truly endeared him to her.

"And Bella?" Alec asked as he paused in the opened doorway, turning back toward her.

"Yeah?" she answered, lifting her previously unfocused gaze to his eyes.

"I just want you to know that, even though it doesn't seem like it right now, the Cullens adore you. It's your choice whether or not you want to give them a chance to show you that, but for future reference, keep in mind what I told you about them having their heads shoved up their asses too far to see straight. Sometimes you just have to take what some of them say or do with a grain of salt."

He hadn't wanted to make it easy for them to smooth things over with her after their inconsiderate treatment of her, but he also didn't want her to believe something that was entirely untrue either. He'd caught bits and pieces of too many conversations regarding her over recent days to believe she hadn't endeared herself to them just as she had to him. What they'd said and allowed her to believe was wrong, but just like the many wrongs they'd inflicted upon one of their own over the years, their actions and words belied their true feelings.

If she planned on sticking around, and he truly hoped she did, it was something she'd have to unfortunately accustom herself to because it was unlikely that they'd change overnight, if ever at all.

"Get some rest, hun. I'll see ya tomorrow," he said, waving just once before closing the door behind him and leaving Bella in a befuddled stupor.

It could have been minutes or even hours that she sat there trying to make sense of his parting words. She tried to process it logically, Alice _had_ defended her and the others had attempted to admonish Rosalie — but the question she couldn't answer was were their attempts just another show of polite hospitality, or because they truly didn't feel the same as Rosalie did. Emmett, Esme, and Alice had always treated her with nothing but kindness. Even Carlisle and Jasper, though in the beginning had been slightly stony, had warmed up to her recently and treated her with casual friendliness.

Rose on the other hand, Bella had no question as to where she stood in the matter. While it was disheartening that she obviously held nothing but disdain for her, Bella was slightly relieved that at least she didn't have to discern whether or not her kindness was delusive. There hadn't been any kindness to even call into question when it came to Rosalie.

Bella eventually lifted herself from her chair when her head began pounding and climbed into her bed, not bothering to change out of the t-shirt and sweatpants her mother had brought for her that morning. It didn't matter because her entire wardrobe consisted only of t-shirts, pajama pants, and sweats anymore - all of which Renee had purchased so she could have something more comfortable than the hospital gowns to wear. Everything else she'd owned had been destroyed.

She'd nearly dozed off when another light knock at her door resounded through the room. She grumbled under her breath before sitting up and looking toward the doorway.

"Come in," she called out, wondering when her room had all of a sudden become a local hotspot.

When the door opened, she squinted against the light, trying to see who was entering and her eyes widened when she realized it was Alice — and Esme. Words escaped her as she stared at the woman who had rarely left Edward's room for the last three weeks straight, and had never come to her room.

"Oh...I'm sorry, sweetie. Did we wake you?" Esme asked, sounding sincerely apologetic.

"No, I hadn't fallen asleep yet," Bella answered, shaking her head and dropping her gaze as she leaned over and pulled the cord to turn on the fluorescent light behind her bed.

"Bella, I...there aren't even words for how incredibly sorry we are for how Rosalie treated you earlier," Esme stammered as she and Alice moved towards her bed. "Please believe me when I say that none of us hold you accountable for what happened."

"Why not? You should," Bella responded as she fidgeted, picking at a loose string on her blanket as Esme sat down on the edge of her bed. "If I hadn't been inside he never would have gotten hurt."

"Honey, no," she sighed, sounding on the verge of tears as she reached out to take a hold of Bella's hand. "Something like this could have happened to him at any time while on duty. It's a risk they take every time they enter a burning building for _any_ reason, and please understand that he wouldn't have gone in if he hadn't felt the risk was worth it."

Bella's gaze finally raised and were met with what she wanted to believe were honest eyes, but she still found herself skeptical. However, she lacked the energy any longer to war with herself over whether Esme's words were sincere or not, so she settled for taking a page out of Alec's book and spoke candidly.

"I wish I could take back everything that happened that night and change the course of fate, but I can't. I understand how hard it must be for all of you to be around me given the circumstances, and I'd completely understand if you wish for me to stay away, but if that's the case, I need you to say so. I don't want anyone acting nicely toward me only because they feel it's the polite thing to do. It hurts me to think that all of you have feigned your kindness more than Rose's honesty does."

"Exactly how much smoke did you inhale that night?" Alice asked suddenly.

"What?" Bella asked, baffled at her odd question.

"I'm beginning to think you may have suffered more brain damage than any lung damage they've diagnosed you with if you think for a single second that we don't sincerely like you," she answered with a quirked brow. "Personally if it were up to me, I'd trade Rosalie for you in a heartbeat any day of the week."

"Alice," Esme sighed, wondering if her two daughter in-laws would ever put aside their differences.

"What? It's true. Rose is rude, self absorbed, and ignorant. Bella is sweet, caring, and thoughtful. She wins hands down," Alice laughed, plopping down on the foot of the bed.

Esme sighed again and shook her head at the ceiling before settling her gaze on Bella and smiling softly. "I don't know why you would ever think we wouldn't welcome your company, but I can definitely understand why you wouldn't wish to be in ours."

"So you don't want me to stay away?" Bella asked, feeling as though she'd gotten lost in some alternate universe at some point within the last ten minutes.

"No, sweetie," Esme shook her head as she gently squeezed Bella's hand. "We don't wish for you or your parents to ever stay away or to ever feel as though you should."

Bella's eyes flickered between Esme's and Alice's for a moment before she nodded and accepted their words as truthful. "Okay...and thank you."

"Don't thank us, dear. It's we who should be thanking you and your family. You've all shown us more support than we could ever repay you for," Esme smiled sadly as she leaned forward to wrap Bella in her warm embrace.

The following morning Bella didn't begin to rise until well after nine am after having stayed awake until the wee hours of the morning with Esme and Alice. She still felt exhausted, but the sun was shining brightly on her face and a wonderful floral scent was luring her from slumber. Her room somehow smelled how she imagined an early morning meadow filled with spring blossoming flowers would, and the dream of standing in the center of it brought a smile to her lips as her eyes began to flutter open.

Only when they did, she gasped and shot up in bed, her eyes wandering around her room in awe. It was positively _filled_ with vase upon vase of tulips, daisies, and lilies, bundles of balloons, and even a rather large stuffed moose sitting in the chair she'd occupied for hours the night before. And as her eyes focused on the piece of paper taped to the front of the moose that read "Bullwinkle", she couldn't help but laugh.

"Oh my _God_."


	12. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: Twilight character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. All intellectual properties associated with _Through the Flames_ belong to SparklingTwilight. Plagiarism is theft. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization. Thank you.

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**A/N****: To those who didn't understand the Bullwinkle bit, it was a reference from back in chapter 9 when Bella was talking to Edward right before he began to wake up for the first time. Emmett had drawn what looked like male genitalia, but claimed them to be "Bullwinkle" so yeah...Em left her the stuffed moose named Bullwinkle. The flowers in chapter 10 were all from the Cullen family as an apology (Excluding Rosalie, of course). Mystery solved.**

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The Sadness of Goodbye vs The Relief of Hello

Bella awoke at seven am on Friday morning to the shrill metallic wail of the battery operated alarm clock she hadn't used since she was in high school. When she rolled over to shut it off, she nearly fell out of the bed, no longer accustomed to its small twin sized mattress. As she opened her eyes and pushed herself up into a sitting position, she smiled drowsily at her familiar surroundings. All of the flowers the Cullen's had filled her hospital room with now filled her bedroom, and Bullwinkle — Emmett's hilarious reminder of his lack in drawing skills — sat proudly in the rocking chair in the corner of her room.

Aside from those new additions, her bedroom in her parents' house hadn't changed a bit in the six years since she'd moved out for college. Pictures of friends and random photographs of nature that she'd taken years before still clung to her sunshine yellow painted walls with colored thumbtacks, and the blue and yellow tie dyed celestial tapestry she'd made for freshman year art class still drooped from her ceiling. She remembered wanting to take that tapestry with her when she left for college, but her mother begged her not to because she loved it so much.

An artistic talent was one of the very few things she shared in common with Renee, and looking up at the work of art she and her mother had created together, she was glad she hadn't taken it with her. It would have been destroyed in the fire along with the memories attached to it.

The sound of Bella's ritualistic morning coughing as she started to move about filtered through the wall and served as a wake up call to her parents, the deep rumble and dryness of it impossible to ignore. Renee rolled over in bed as Charlie began rubbing his hands over his face, worried his daughter would never be fully healthy again.

"Do you think she'll ever be able to start a day without that horrid hacking?" Renee fretted.

"I hope so," Charlie sighed as he took her hand in his and held it between them, caressing her fingers with his thumb as he stared up at the ceiling and waited for it to subside. When a few minutes of silence passed and they heard her enter the bathroom and turn on the shower, they sighed in unified relief and prepared themselves to get up and face another day.

By quarter to eight, the scent of pancakes and sizzling sausage was wafting up the stairs as Bella began to make her trek down them. Before joining her parents in the kitchen, she packed her inhaler in the side pocket of her portable oxygen system, just in case of an emergency. She disliked the idea of having to carry it around with her everywhere she went, but she feared the possibilities of what could happen if she over-exerted herself and began struggling to breathe again more.

"Hey, kiddo. You got up early this morning...what do you have planned for the day?" Charlie asked as he dropped his folded up newspaper down onto the kitchen table.

"Morning, Mom," Bella smiled, kissing her cheek as she passed by her on the way to get some juice from the refrigerator. "Um...I have to head into the office to talk to Jay about taking an extended leave of absence, and after that I'm going to head to the hospital for a while."

"Bella," Charlie grumbled discontentedly.

"Dad, don't start, please. We've been through this already. We've been through this almost every day this week. I'm not changing my mind so let it go," she intercepted, shaking her head as she sat down at the table.

"I'm not letting it go, Isabella. You're twenty four years old and just starting to really put your life together. Why in God's name are you so insistent on putting your entire life on hold for one person when he's already got practically half the city at his disposal for support?"

Bella tuned him out within his first sentence and crossed her arms over her chest as she pursed her lips and stared at her glass of orange juice.

"For shit's sake...Renee, help me out here," Charlie groaned.

"Honey, your father's right. You can still visit him and help him with anything you can without quitting your job," Renee piped in as she placed a plate in front of Bella.

"I'm not _quitting_," Bella huffed as she straightened up in her seat. "And it's not _just for him_. I can barely manage minimal activity at best, so how am I supposed to get through a ten to twelve hour day running all over this city without putting myself back in the hospital?"

She wished her parents would understand that her job didn't allow her to sit in an office chair for hours at a time. Bella spent her exhaustingly long work days running back and forth between attorney offices, libraries, and courthouse file rooms and her job frequently required her to carry heavy loads of research materials and case files. It just wasn't feasible for her to return to work in her condition, and she'd explained as much to her parents on more than one occasion since she'd left the hospital.

"Bella," Charlie sighed, shaking his head at her. "You and I both know that in a couple of weeks you'd be ready to go back to work at least part time. I'm not saying you'll be back to a hundred percent, because I don't know if that's true or not, but I do know that taking an indefinite leave of absence is unwarrantable."

Bella kept her eyes on her plate, listlessly pushing her food around with her fork. She didn't want to admit to herself that her father was speaking the truth. There really wouldn't be any legitimate reason for her not to return to work in a few weeks on a part time basis, assuming her health continued to improve. The problem was she knew herself too well, and she knew that if she returned too early, she'd never be able to just stop whatever task she was doing and let it go when it became too much. But more than that, she feared getting back into a routine of long work hours and too little personal time that would disenable her from being able to visit with the Cullen family daily as she'd been doing.

It had only been three days since her meltdown in the hospital and waking up to a room full of gifts, but it seemed like a lifetime ago since she read their heartfelt words on the card they'd left for her. They truly wanted her there with them, and even though she'd been hurt by Carlisle's initially disingenuous actions, she could look past them. He'd been entitled to the way he'd felt — she just wished he wouldn't have hidden it behind a deceitful veil of compassion.

"Can you just...let it go?" she mumbled to her plate, wanting nothing more than to get on with the day she'd had planned when she went to sleep the night before.

"No, Bells. What are you going to do for money? How will you pay the bills you already have, or the ones that will start rolling in from the hospital?" he pressed argumentatively.

She looked up at him and narrowed his eyes, incensed that he felt she hadn't given her decision the utmost consideration. "I'm not an idiot, Dad. My health insurance will pay most of my hospital bills and what it doesn't, I can make monthly payments on. Considering my car is paid off and I no longer have rent to pay because I no longer _have an apartment_, I have enough in my savings to get by until I have to go back to work, and that's not including whatever I can get out of an insurance settlement."

As she trailed her argument off, Bella rose from the table and took her plate into the kitchen to dump her barely touched breakfast into the trash. After she rinsed her plate and loaded it into the dishwasher, she turned and leaned against the counter, facing her parents at the table.

"I don't expect you to understand why I need to do this so badly, but I need you to accept it. I need you to trust me to do what's best for me right now," she said, imploring them with her eyes to back down.

The kitchen was silent as Charlie crossed his arm over his chest and ran a hand repeatedly over his mouth in contemplation. Renee darted worried eyes back and forth between her daughter and husband, wishing for nothing more than an end to their disagreement one way or the other. She didn't necessarily agree with Bella's choice either, but she was a grown woman and was highly capable of making her own decisions.

"Dad..._please_," Bella urged gently. He sighed in displeasure, furiously rubbing his hands over his face as he leaned forward to sit up straight in his chair. When his arms dropped down onto the table, he looked over at her and nodded.

"Fine," he answered and pointed a finger at her. "But you listen here, young lady. Jay Jenks went out on a limb and took a chance hiring you right out of school, with no experience whatsoever. Don't waste the opportunity he gave you, Bella, and don't make him regret giving it to you. Do you hear me?"

Bella couldn't help the thrill that shot through her veins at her father's concession and a smile spread across her face as she rounded the kitchen counter toward him. She wrapped her arms around him, laying her head down on his shoulder as he chuckled and shook his head.

"Thank you, Dad," she whispered. "I love you."

"Love you too, kiddo."

A half an hour later, Bella was making her way through the parking garage for the municipal complex. She knew from having previously walked the same path countless times before that, even speed walking, the trek would take her at least ten minutes to Jay's office. Unfortunately, she couldn't even think about speed walking the distance anymore. The humid heat and her ability to exert herself easily had her making a slow journey toward his office, careful not to outdo herself. Even still, with all the caution she'd taken, she was digging into her emergency pack for her inhaler by the time she made it to the elevator in his building .

When the doors opened, she entered and hit the button for the seventh floor before leaning against the faux wood paneling and trying to slow her breathing. The man that had boarded the elevator along with her was standing off to the side and eyeing her with a horribly failed attempt at being discrete. She wanted to roll her eyes at him, but she lacked the energy and disrespect to do so.

"Bella?" a sweet voice called out in recognition as the elevator dinged, stopping at the fourth floor. She opened her eyes and smiled as the young woman with caramel skin and jet black hair boarded the elevator.

"Hey Claire," she greeted, stepping back to make room for her and the heavy looking file box she was carrying.

"How are you? We all heard what happened and we've been so worried. I kept meaning to stop by the hospital and see you, but Jenks Sr. is prosecuting a huge case in just a few weeks. He's had us working our tails off for the last month straight," Claire spoke, concern in her eyes and remorse in her tone. Bella just chuckled and shook her head at her, not wanting her to feel bad for not having had the chance to come visit her.

"Don't worry about it. I know how it goes around here, and so far, I'm doing okay," Bella responded, wishing she could offer assistance as Claire struggled with the box in her hands. When her eyes drifted up to the man still in the elevator — who was now conspicuously averting his attention with profound determination — she had to wonder just when the notion of chivalry in the office environment had gone up in flames. This time, however, she did roll her eyes at him before turning her attention back to Claire.

When the elevator doors opened to the seventh floor, Bella followed behind Claire, listening to her recount all that she'd missed in the last three weeks. She'd been snickering under her breath over Claire's story about a new office assistant being so nervous during a meeting that she spilled coffee in one of the prosecutor's laps when she looked up and spotted Jay Jenks leaning against the wall just outside his office door, smiling softly at her.

"Sorry Claire, but my boss is waiting for me," Bella apologized. "I'll give you a call next week, maybe we can get together for lunch or something."

"As long as you can handle eating in the courthouse file room," Claire sniggered. "I've been up to my knees in files for the last week in there and I'm only halfway through."

"Done deal. I'll bring the sandwiches, you bring the makeshift chairs," Bella laughed, making her way toward Jay.

He pulled away from the wall and ushered her into his office before shutting the door behind them and leading her to a cushioned leather chair across from his massive contemporary walnut desk.

"Lookin' good, kid," he chuckled as he lowered himself into his office chair. "Hell of a lot better than the last time I saw you."

"You came to the hospital?" Bella asked in confusion. She hadn't been aware that he'd been there, but then again, she'd been unaware of anything for nearly two days.

"Sure did. Your father called first thing the morning after and my father and I came straight out. I hope you don't mind, but everyone here pooled together after the picture of your building made first page of the paper. It's not a tremendous amount, but every little bit helps, right?" he asked as he withdrew an envelope from his desk drawer and pushed it across to her.

She took it from him with furrowed brows and nearly fell out of her chair when she peeked inside and saw the amount written on the check. "I don't...I can't...Jay, this is _too much_," she shook her head rapidly as she tried to pass the nearly five thousand dollar check back to him.

"Bella, take it. You'll need it more than any of us do if for nothing more than those hospital bills," he refused, wanting her to have the money. She didn't need to know that more than half of it came from him and his father alone. She was a hard worker, probably the hardest working he'd had on his staff since the day he took office as Assistant District Attorney. If anyone in that office deserved a helping hand when they needed one, it was her.

"My father also contacted your insurance company, acting on your behalf as your attorney since a conflict of interest inhibited me from doing so myself, and you can expect payment within thirty days. They're declaring it a total loss on all of your belongings and we got them to settle for just shy of fifteen...which is half of what we were going for, but almost twice what they originally offered."

Bella looked at him with bewildered eyes and a slack jaw, unable to process all that had just happened in the span of five minutes. "I don't even know what to say but...thank you."

"No need to thank me, Bella. You've earned it around here and if anyone deserves a break right now, it's you. Speaking of which, my secretary informed me you wish to take a leave of absence. Is that right?" he asked and she nodded, feeling ashamed for requesting now after all he'd done for her.

"It is. I just don't have the energy or the stamina for the long hours and physical strain right now. And to be honest, there are some personal matters I wish to tend to," she answered truthfully, earning a knowing smirk from him.

"The firefighter wouldn't happen to be the personal matter, would he?" Jay asked rhetorically, already knowing the answer, but she bit her lip and nodded her affirmation anyway. "He's a good guy. His brothers leave a little to be desired occasionally, but Edward's always been a pretty damn honorable man for as long as I've known him. Guy's got more guts and glory than half this city combined."

"So I keep hearing," Bella laughed lightly.

"Are you up for a negotiation on the terms of length of this supposed leave of absence? Because I'll be frank, it takes four of the others to get me what you can in half the time and I'm going to be needing you back soon," Jay spoke seriously as he leaned forward, clasping his hands together atop the desk.

"How soon?" Bella asked, slightly relieved that he hadn't refused her request outright.

"I know you need time to recover. I can see that much with my own two eyes," he said as he gestured to her emergency oxygen pack. "What do you say I let you use eight of the ten weeks of paid vacation you've earned the past two and a half years and then we'll see what you're up for then? If you come back at that point, I'll keep you on light cases until you're feeling up for more if need be."

Bella contemplated his offer for all of ten seconds. Eight weeks — and paid to boot — was more than gracious and she wasn't about to push for more and potentially risk her career.

"I think I can work with that," she smiled gratefully.

"Well then, Miss Swan, enjoy your vacation."

Bella left Jay Jenks's office just shortly after eleven am, and after chatting with a few people on her way back toward the garage, she finally made it to her car just before noon. As she slid into the seat of her black 2005 Chevy Cobalt, she placed her portable oxygen supply on the passenger seat and went about hooking the mask up to the small tank. She'd just placed the mask to her face when the cell phone her mother had insisted she replace immediately upon leaving the hospital, began to vibrate and ring in her pocket. She fished it out while taking deep breaths of oxygen through the mask, irritated that a walk she'd taken multiple times nearly every day of her life for the past few years had exhausted her so greatly.

She wanted her health back. She wanted to be able to go jogging down at Swan Creek Park when she felt stressed out. She wanted Edward to finally wake up for longer than a span of just a minute or two at a time. She wanted his family to be able to get a decent night's sleep for the first time in ages. She wanted...

She wanted so many things right now, for herself and for others, but none of them were possible at the moment.

"Hello?" she answered, slightly breathless as she pulled the mask away from her face.

"Hey, Bella. It's Alice...are you okay? You sound...winded," Alice's sweet concerned voice flowed through the line.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Just feel like I ran a...marathon even though I only...walked about four blocks," she answered slowly between deep breaths. "What's up?"

"Bella," she sighed worriedly. "You need to take it easy. Is anyone with you? Do you have your oxygen with you?"

Bella rolled her eyes but couldn't help the slight smile tugging at her lips, grateful she was to have made such a caring new friend. "No, no one's with me...and yes, I have it with me... I'm using it right now."

"Alright," she answered unsurely. "Well call me if you start having a hard time breathing, okay? I can come to you wherever you are, it's not a problem."

"Alice, I'm fine...really," Bella assured her. "Did you all need anything when you called...or?"

"Oh, no!" Alice laughed, having completely forgotten why she'd called to begin with. "I was just wondering if you were planning on coming by soon. Jasper and Emmett are going to get pizza and we wanted to know what kind you liked if you wanted some."

Bella chuckled under her breath and told her any kind would be fine, so long as it didn't have mushrooms or anchovies, and told her she should be there in about a half an hour. She spent another ten minutes after hanging up the phone getting her breathing under control and basking in the cool air blowing from her car's vents before pulling out of the garage and heading toward the hospital.

As she drove through Tacoma's city streets, her mental list making of things she needed to take care of over the next few weeks was cut short as she became consciously aware of how close she was to her old apartment. Before she knew it, she was instinctively making the turns toward the old historic house that had been renovated into eight flats. Parking across the street, she shut her engine off and exhaled deeply before turning her gaze to the destroyed building.

All that was left was a giant pile of scorched wood, blackened and unrecognizable. Memories of the few years she'd lived there played out behind her eyes; the excitement she'd had the day she moved in and she and her mother painted every room in cheery colors - getting more paint on themselves than the walls in most of the rooms; the first time she locked herself out of her apartment and Walt - the building's elderly owner - came to her rescue at nearly midnight with a spare key; the day she met Tanya and Irina when she nearly sent the three of them tumbling down the staircase.

Bella had sprained her ankle that day when she'd overstepped one of the stairs, catching her heel on just the edge of it and sending her sliding down a handful of others and smack into the two women — but she'd also made two of the best friends she could have ever asked for that day as well. They'd helped her limp to her car and Irina drove them to the hospital. Four hours and three x-rays later, they spent the night with her watching cheesy movies and drinking wine to numb the pain. It was the first of many nights of popcorn, wine, and movies that made them toss more kernels toward the TV screen than into their mouths.

A tear slid down the side of her cheek as she gazed at the remains of the first place she'd felt at home since leaving her parents' house. That building, when it had stood tall, proud, and beautiful, had housed within it laughter, joy, friendship — _warmth_. The rubble left behind just held a painful reminder of how closely two people had come to losing their lives in its destruction.

Bella's fingers slid easily across the numeric keypad of her phone, the familiar number not needing even a second of thought to remember after having been dialed so many times in the past.

"Hey sweetie! How's freedom treatin' ya?" Tanya's cheerful voice soothed Bella's fractured heart instantly.

"Good, I guess...I miss you guys," she sighed, staring at the building.

"Aw...we miss you too, hun. But hey! Irina and I decided to take the plunge. I know, I know...Six years of living together in a shoebox you'd think we would have already...but it's time," Tanya rambled, her voice trilling with excitement.

"What? What plunge are you talking about?" Bella chuckled, swiping away at the fading tears.

"We're renting a house!" she squealed and Bella had to laugh at the mental image of her jumping around and clapping. "And it's _awesome_! It's bright yellow just like you're old room and it has white trim and the cutest picket fence...all we need is a dog but Irina said hell no. She said there's no way she's spending her Sunday mornings doing poop patrol in the yard. I told her we can get a chihuahua and put a diaper on it, but she just looked at me like I was crazy."

"Because you _are _crazy," Bella laughed, leaning her head back and looking at the ceiling of her car as she shook her head.

"Anyways, it has three bedrooms and it looks like we'll be moving in in four weeks and Irina and I wanted to know if you'd think about...maybe...living with us?" she asked hesitantly, and after a moment of stunned silence she began rambling. "It's just...we loved living across the hall from you and really...we spent more nights in the same apartment together than in our own ones and it just feels...I dunno..._weird_ knowing that you won't be just right across the hall anymore. Will you at least just think about it, please?"

"Yes, I'll think about it, Tanya, but I definitely can't afford to do it until I go back to work, and don't even try to pull the "you don't need to pay us rent" bit. If I move in, I pay a third of everything, okay?"

"Yes ma'am!" she chirped, getting Bella to laugh again because, even though she couldn't see her, she knew Tanya had just saluted her.

They spoke for a few more minutes and made plans to get together sometime over the weekend before hanging up. With one last glimpse of what had once been one of her favorite places in the world, Bella kissed the tips of her fingers and touched the glass, bidding the crumbled remains farewell before pulling out of her spot and heading back down the road.

By the time she arrived at the hospital, the pizza had long since gone cold, and though she attempted to eat the slice they'd saved her, somewhere between seeing her old building and knowing she would never be able to salvage any tangible piece of the memories she'd made there, she had lost her appetite completely. Instead of trying to force the food down, she lifted herself out of the ICU waiting room chair and dumped it in the trash.

"Are you feeling okay, honey?" Esme asked worriedly, standing and pressing a warm hand to Bella's forehead.

"Yeah, I'm just not hungry," she smiled sadly. Esme looked her over carefully and released a sighing breath as she nodded, knowing something was off but not wanting to push her for answers.

"Alright. I'll listen if you want to talk about anything though, okay?" she whispered to Bella as she hugged her gently. "Come on...they should be just about done running him a new IV and I have a surprise for you."

"What kind of surprise?" Bella asked skeptically, but only received a teasing smile in return.

"You'll see," Esme winked as she linked her arm with Bella's, her smile growing wider as they departed the waiting room and headed towards Edward's room.

The moment they walked through the glass doors to his room, Bella gasped as her hand flew to her mouth, tears brimming in her eyes.

"They took him off the ventilator?" she breathed, unable to believe her eyes and looking to Esme for confirmation.

"About two hours ago," she nodded with a tender smile. "He woke up around one am and he's been awake off and on all morning. The doctors were in here for about an hour this morning testing his ability to regulate his own breathing before deciding to try taking him off the vent. So far so good."

"That's...God I don't even know what to say...I'm so happy for all of you," Bella stammered as Esme led her further into the room.

As Bella lowered herself into a chair, her eyes roamed Edward's face. The cuts and bruises that had marred his skin had faded significantly and the breathing tube that had distorted his features had been removed, leaving behind only the feeding tube affixed to his right nostril. For the first time in her many visits to his bedside, she truly saw _him_.

And he was _beautiful_.

Though it shouldn't have been surprising to her seeing as how his brothers were both handsome and she'd noticed the features they shared before — the squared jaw, perfectly almond shaped eyes, and slightly cleft chin — she still found herself taken aback by his rugged handsomeness. Not even the flaws such as the small scar cutting through the edge of his left eyebrow, or the subtle bump on the bridge of his nose — most likely a result from having broken it at some point — or even the scar beneath his chin took away from his beauty.

Her heart broke for him, all of Alec's late night words floating through her mind of how Edward lived his life drowning himself in work to avoid the loneliness of solitude outside of the station. She couldn't understand why he wasn't married already, or why he didn't at least have a significant other, when he was someone who was not only what everyone described to her to be a genuine beautiful soul, but good looking as well. It was baffling.

As the others began slowly filtering into the room, she heard Esme tsk and sigh behind her and the sound captured her attention away from Edward's face.

"He still has tape residue on his cheek. I swear they make that stuff irremovable on purpose," Esme mumbled to herself as she soaked and rang a cloth with warm water and added just a drop of soap. It was when she turned toward the bed that Bella first noticed just how tired and sleep deprived Esme's eyes were.

"Here, I'll get it. You sit...you're exhausted," she said softly, holding her hand out for the rag.

"Thank you, dear," Esme smiled softly, handing it to her and taking a seat as Bella moved toward the bed.

Bella found herself smiling and trying not to laugh as the Cullen children began squabbling amongst themselves. It seemed to her to be their favorite pass time, and while some of their arguments made Bella want to cower away from the viciousness of their words, the nonsensical griping ones were just downright amusing to her.

"Emmett, for the love of God, you're gonna break the damn TV. Pick a channel and stick with it already," Alice huffed.

"Pipe it, Peanut...the game's comin' on in ten minutes but I don't know what channel," he retorted.

"Don't call me that," she mumbled, and Bella's heart tugged at the sadness in her voice, though she couldn't fathom where the sadness had suddenly come from.

"Why not? Edward does all the time. Does he even remember your real name?" Emmett laughed. Bella's hand faltered, ceasing its movement abruptly as she suddenly understood the meaning behind Alice's disheartened tone.

"Yeah well...he's Edward and you're just a big dumb oaf," she growled defensively.

"_Ouch_," Emmett laughed. "I may be dumb but at least I can reach the top shelf of the cupboard."

"Enough, knock it off now..._both_ of you," Carlisle's stern and aggravated voice cut in, rendering the room silent aside from the stunted audio clips on the TV as Emmett hopped from channel to channel and the steady beeps from Edward's monitoring equipment.

To avoid the awkward tension that had settled over the room, Bella focused her attention on gently removing the strip of sticky residue from Edward's scruffy face. She passed the rag over his skin with the utmost of tenderness, trying not to disturb his slumber. Once she was sure it had all been removed, she gently passed the clean end over the soapy area.

And, just as she slowly swiped it across his forehead, his eyelids began to flutter. Slowly, ever so slowly, they lifted and for only the second time ever in their lives, shamrock green locked onto cinnamon brown.

Moments of silence passed like an eternity between them, neither aware of anything surrounding them. For him, the woman whose lifeless body had tormented his dreams was hovering just above him — alive and well and smiling softly. For her, all of her hopes and prayers had been answered in the bright mossy depths of his eyes — free and clear of the torturous agony she'd seen in them the only other time he'd opened his eyes in her presence.

"Hi," she nearly whispered upon a breath of profound relief. His eyes flickered between hers, unsure if she was really standing there or if he was dreaming again because those eyes and that voice were far too familiar to him.

Another series of silent moments passed before she heard the one sound she hadn't been aware she'd been longing so badly to hear. It was broken, and barely audible — but she'd heard it clear as day.

"Hey."

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**Important A/N:**** So a few chapters back I gave a forewarning that there may be a few week period during this story where I won't be able to update. As much as I wish I didn't have to do this, I don't really have a choice anymore. My health issue has not improved over the past few weeks, if anything it's actually gotten worse, so they've finally scheduled the surgical intervention for the 22nd. Since I haven't been able to write a single thing in almost 2 weeks because of the pain I've been in, this will be the last update I'll be able to post until I recover from said surgery. I'm hoping to be well enough to have this story back up and running by the 1st of July, but we'll have to play it by ear. **

**Thank you all so much for the well wishes and prayers you've sent my way already. ^_^ They make me feel 100 times better than I've been feeling lately. I'll see you all in a few weeks.**


	13. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: Twilight character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. All intellectual properties associated with _Through the Flames_ belong to SparklingTwilight. Plagiarism is theft. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization. Thank you.

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**A/N****: I'm back...Surprise! I know I'm all kinds of fail for not sending out review reply teasers, but I figured, after waiting patiently for so many weeks, you all would rather have a whole new chapter a week early than a skimpy little teaser until the end of next week. **

**Thank you all so much for your thoughts, prayers, and well wishes. I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to respond to all of your reviews, but there were just so many of them it felt like an impossible task to accomplish while feeling so under the weather. Please know that I read, and loved, each and every single one of them ^_^ **

**Thank you to all you wonderful ladies on Twitter, the forum, and FFn PMs that checked in on me from time to time and helped keep my spirits high. You guys are pure WIN, and I 3 you all. **

**And last, but certainly not least, Huge thank you to my girls, Jules, Ash, and Simone who kept me company via Skype while stuck in the hospital much like the characters in this story have been...though for future reference, the bouncing of the stuffed kangaroo in front of the webcam was just totally creepy from my drugged up perspective LOL. Love you guys!**

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*******Tissue Warning = pocket sized package - or so I've been told********

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The Comfort of a Saint

Within moments of Edward's first word, rasped through a dry and weak from disuse throat, Bella had nearly been trampled by the members of his family as they crowded the sides of his bed. Pinched between a bedrail and a column of electrical outlets and machinery, she had little room to move, much less breathe. Whatever moment had just passed between the two of them ended abruptly as she tried to squeeze her way out of the crevice they'd pinned her in.

As she ducked and slid out of his view, Edward's eyes frantically tried to follow her as the confusion in his mind hit paramount proportions. Everything was hazy and muddled, leaving him feeling sluggish, both mentally as well as physically, and obliterating his ability to differentiate between fantasy and reality. As she disappeared behind the towering forms of his brothers, his hands clenched into fists at his sides as he tried to fight against the haze to call her back. Biting stabs of pain from something sharp being compressed in his palms flared his confusion even higher and he began to lift his left arm so he could see what was in his hand.

"Edward..."

He heard his name, but the rest of the words became too muffled to understand as a hand encircled his and began to lift it. Edward's eyes remained latched on his own arm, but more specifically on the foreign and shiny object dangling from between their clasped hands. His eyes closed as he swallowed, trying to moisten his arid throat to push out the words to ask what it was that was in his hand, but when he tried, his voice was too weak to be heard over the hum of voices surrounding him.

Wanting to see the shiny silver object up close, he began slowly, and painfully, reaching over with his right arm to grasp it, but as his hand crossed in front of his face, another shiny object slipped from his fist and swung just inches in front of his face. His eyes darted to it and tried to focus on it as it swayed back and forth.

A medallion — in the shape of an officer's badge.

Edward's brow furrowed as his eyes followed its motion, like a pendulum attempting to lure him into an entranced state, but a flash of mahogany brown captured his attention from the foot of his bed. Cinnamon eyes and plump primrose lips smiled softly at him before those lips began to move, bringing with them warm familiar tones and entrancing him instantly.

"...let you all spend some time together."

Her words were followed by another soft shy smile in his direction, and their eyes locked once more, shamrocks and cinnamon sticks, before she disappeared through the doorway. Edward's head fell back against his pillow, his eyes open and staring unseeingly at the ceiling above him as he tried to clear his confusion.

She'd been there. _Bella_ had been there — in his room. Standing beside his bed and caring for him with a tender touch that eased him from his slumbering state, so unlike every other time he'd awoken in horrific pain.

But what was she doing there? _Why_ was she there?

And suddenly, he was hit with the most horrifying thought of all. Had she _truly_ been there, or had she...

"Is she...dead?" his mouth formed around a gravelly breath.

"Who? Edward...is who dead?" his father asked with furrowed brows and a concerned look.

"The girl...Bella," he forced out painfully through his parched throat. As if the dryness wasn't enough of a discomfort, the feeding tube extending down the back of his throat served as a constant irritant forcing him to feel the need to swallow to dislodge it.

"Oh man, bro...they need to lower your dosage!" Emmett's amused voice boomed. "No she's not dead. She was just in here."

"Why?" he breathed, confusedly looking between all their eyes for an answer.

Esme's eyes softened as she gazed down upon her son, tears of gratitude not only for him being awake and finally aware of his surroundings, but for the woman who had just left the room as well. Not many would have possessed the strength of character to stand beside her son and their family as she had, especially not after they'd unintentionally hurt her as deeply as they had. She truly was an amazing young woman, and Esme hoped with everything in her that Edward wouldn't push her away. He could be such a stubborn fool at times, too full of pride in his moments of need to allow a helping hand, and often too pessimistic to believe a person can act with truly selfless desires.

"Honey," she smiled softly down at him. "Bella's been here every day since becoming able to leave her hospital room. She's been so worried about you, we all have been."

"Edward," Carlisle cut in, his heart tugging at the degree of confusion on his son's face. "Just relax and give yourself time to come around. Do you know where you are? What happened?"

Edward's eyes drifted toward the ceiling once again as he tried to work his way through his muddled mind. He was aware he was in a hospital, and though his memory was hazy, he could remember being in a fire and he could definitely remember the girl — but anything beyond that and before the few times he could remember waking up in the hospital, he was unable to recall. Judging by the pain in his upper body, he knew he'd been hurt somehow. And _badly_. His head began to throb as he tried to remember exactly what had happened and how he'd gotten hurt.

"_Fuck_," he grumbled hoarsely, his right hand reaching up to rub his face. He wanted to rip the IV out of his arm to block the damn narcotics flowing into his system just so he could clear the cloudiness infiltrating his mind. He also wanted to rip the tube out of his nose and throat because the constant sensation of its presence was pissing him off.

But, just as his fingers came up over his eyes, a cool piece of metal smacked him in the face and his brow furrowed as he lifted his hand and eyed the badge shaped medallion he'd already completely forgotten was there. It frustrated him to no end how out of sorts he was and he wished beyond anything that the disorientation and fuzziness encompassing him would just dissipate already.

"What _is_ this damn thing?" he growled, sending himself into a painful coughing fit. An agonized groan escaped his throat as something tugged at the left side of his chest, sending red hot flares of pain through his torso.

Within seconds, his confusion erupted into full blown panic, setting off all of his monitoring equipment as his heart took off at a frantic pace when he tried to move his leg so he could twist in the bed and see what was pulling at his side.

But his leg wouldn't move...

It wouldn't _move._

He stared at his sheet covered legs, willing them into motion — but there was nothing. Not even a twitch of the fabric settled upon them.

_Please no...please, please, no..._ his mind echoed as his lips formed the question he couldn't even hear the answer to, his pulse thundering too loudly in his ears to make out the words contained within the riot of alarmed voices all speaking to him at once.

Adrenaline from fear pumped through his veins, slowly clearing the haze in his mind and allowing him to process what was wrong with him with acute understanding.

He was paralyzed. Whatever had happened to him during that fire had paralyzed him. No amount of pain flaring up in his upper torso at that moment, not the tugging tenderness at his side, not the throbbing in his head, not even the searing pain in his stomach or back was able to surmount the agony seizing his heart at the realization.

"Get out," he muttered as tears began to prick at his eyes.

The voices of his family abruptly silenced as they looked at each other helplessly — but no one made a move to leave.

"Get the fuck out! Now!" he roared, the pain in his side and throat from doing so having gone completely unfelt through the shredding and shattering of his most precious organ.

His heart.

Edward's holler instantly captured the attention of his nurse sitting just outside of his room and she was out of her chair — paperwork and charting forgotten as she rushed into the room.

"I'm going to have to ask you all to step out." Her tone held no apology nor did it allow leeway for negotiation.

With worried eyes and weighted limbs, his family stepped away from the bed. Every member, aside from his mother, drifted from the room with reluctant and forced shuffles, each wishing they could shoulder his anguish for him.

"Sweetie," Esme whispered, leaning her head down to press a kiss to the only spot of his face his hands weren't covering — the very peak of his forehead.

"Please, Mom..._please_, not now. Just...go," he pled, attempting to steady his already strained voice so as not to betray the onslaught of tears that were on the cusp of emerging.

"Okay, okay," she conceded. "We'll be in the waiting room whenever you're ready."

Esme had barely taken a single step away from the bed before she witnessed the first clear droplet of moisture seep from beneath his hands and trail its way down his neck. Her own tears spilled over in response to the sight of that single rolling bead of heartbreak and, with a heavy heart, she departed the room to join the others in the waiting room just outside the unit.

Hours passed with no word from Edward's caregivers, or from Edward himself. A heavily grievous tension had settled within the beige windowed room, pressing palpably against the skin of the room's inhabitants. Carlisle and Esme sat huddled together, hands entwined and fingers caressing in silent support of one another. Emmett and Rosalie sat in the corner silently, Rose caressing his left hand as she held it between both of hers while he nipped and chewed away at the nails of his right hand, wearing them down to jagged and sore nubs. Jasper sat across from them, elbows on knees and chin resting in the nook of his thumbs and forefingers, his hands pressed together as if in prayer. Alice, to Jasper's left, sat an empty seat away, neither of them reaching out to comfort the other, both of their gazes trained on the speckled industrial carpeting.

And even to Bella, who sat clear across the room in a lonesome chair at the rear corner of the room, the marital strain between the middle Cullen children was thick enough to permeate her own armor of flesh and bone and slice right into her core. At a time when they needed each other the most, not an ounce of solace could be shared between them. They too, like Edward, had cast themselves into the darkness of suffering in solitude.

Within the confines of room 635, Edward's tears had eventually abated, leaving him staring blankly and emotionlessly at the glass wall covered in familiar photographs. His vision faded in and out of focus as he forced his mind into silence — a tremendous effort upon his own behalf to not permit himself to silently ask the one question he was aware he'd never receive an answer to.

His thumb ran continuous circles across the surface of the Saint Florian medal that had dangled between his father's hand and his own — a gift from a person yet to be named. As the figure of the Saint passed under the pad of his thumb, over and over again in a steady rhythm, the repetition of which he could no longer quantify, he began to pray.

He prayed for a show of mercy.

He prayed to be given the chance at what would become the defining battle of his lifetime.

He prayed for _any_ end to this nightmare that wouldn't render him only half alive for the remainder of his life.

Edward's eyes closed at the precise moment the sun altered its position in the early evening sky to send the first of its rays through the window of his room. An intense ray of bright white light, illuminating particles and dust motes suspended in the air in its path toward the wall of photographs. When his eyes opened, a section of pictures stood out, lit brightly against the darkness of the others and displaying the faces of those closest to him. And in the very center of the light, illuminated the brightest of all, stood one of his most favorite memories of all time.

It was from his twenty third birthday and he hung suspended in the air laughing with his brothers and Alec grinning devilishly into the camera — the three of them holding onto his arms and legs. It was taken just moments before they'd hurled him, fully clothed, into his parents' pool. Not only did that picture serve as a memory of the day he'd been given Tango as his birthday gift, but it also served as a memory back to a time when everything was easier, not as strained — better. It marked a time when laughing and smiling still came as easy and naturally as breathing.

A time before financial crises, impulsive marriages, reckless irresponsibility, and heated family arguments began to tear his family apart.

"Edward?" A man's voice beckoned him from his memories. "I'm Dr. Ashford, one of the attending neuro-surgeons here at Tacoma General. I performed the surgery on your back the night you were brought in."

Edward nodded to him silently as he approached his bedside and tried to calm his racing heart. Standing before him was a man that held the power to make or break him.

"Your nurse, Linda, called me and informed me you'd awakened. I'd like to talk to you for a bit about your condition," Dr. Ashford began cordially as Edward closed his eyes and braced himself to ask the one question he needed answered.

"Is this permanent?" His voice was weak but, somehow, he'd managed to utter the words he so despairingly feared.

"At the moment, I don't have a definite answer as to whether or not your condition will be permanent. Only time will tell and we'll be conducting neurological tests on you daily to track any changes. I will tell you, however, that we are doing everything possible to prevent permanent damage. Has anyone explained the injuries you sustained to you yet?" he asked and Edward shook his head. Even if they had, he'd been so out of it the few times he could recall waking that he wouldn't have understood or been able to remember it.

He listened intently as the doctor explained each injury he'd received from falling through a floor. He had no recollection at all of falling, but as he tried to keep track of the broken bones, internal injuries, head injury, collapsed lungs and burns leading up to the three vertebrae he'd burst in his lower spine, he couldn't help but be thankful that he couldn't remember it. He tried to follow the doctor's descriptions of the surgical hardware they'd implanted to stabilize his spine, but all he comprehended out of it was something about rods and screws fusing everything together.

"Because your injury was in the lower levels of your spine, or your lumbar spine, there's a higher possibility that you can recover from an injury of this nature than if it had been in the upper thoracic or cervical regions."

"So there's a chance, at least...that I'll walk again?" Edward asked, resuming his circuitous thumbing of the Saint Florian medallion.

"We're hoping for more than a chance. How about we do a few simple tests to see where we stand right now?" he proposed, to which Edward nodded his consent, his breath held in his chest as he caressed another prayer to his Patron Saint.

"Can you try to wiggle your toes for me?" Dr. Ashford asked after he gently removed the sheet from the lower half of Edward's body.

"I can't," he answered, shaking his head dismally.

"Can you feel me touching you here?" the doctor asked as he placed his hand on Edward's right calf and gave a gentle squeeze.

"Not...really," he answered, furrowing his brow at the strange sensation. It was almost as if it was a phantom feeling his mind conjured up simply because he was looking directly at the area being touched.

"Okay, Edward. Do me a favor and close your eyes. I want you to tell me if you can feel me touching your leg, and where if you do, okay?" the doctor asked, removing his hand until Edward had fully closed his eyes. He waited for a series of moments before pressing down on different areas of Edward's right leg, applying various degrees of pressure. He noted when Edward's brow would furrow, but he wouldn't speak, as if he were unsure whether he was feeling something or not. As the minutes passed by, Edward's desperation to feel something, _anything_, mounted exponentially right alongside the terrifying dread that he, thus far, hadn't felt a thing. Dr. Ashford's final touch was a harsh pinch of the muscle on the back of Edward's calf.

"I felt that...I felt it," Edward nearly laughed. "Back of my right leg."

"Good, that's good," Dr. Ashford smiled as Edward's eyes shot open. "Okay, so you have sensory perception. It's decreased, probably due to the swelling of your spinal cord, but it's there. That's a good sign. I'm going to test your nerve reflexes now."

With one rough swipe of the back of Dr. Ashford's pen, it was all over. _Excruciating_ pain shot up Edward's leg and radiated throughout his entire body as his foot jerked in response to the stimuli. The pain was so crippling that he lost his ability to breathe or scream or do anything but grip the bedrails to the point he could feel the dense plastic begin to give way.

As the pain began to gradually fade and return to the numbness he'd been oblivious to when he'd awoken, sharp gasps of air ripped in and out of his lungs as tears began to leak from the sides of his eyes. Not once in his life had he ever experienced pain of that horrific degree, but there was no argument to be had, he would have rather felt it a thousand times over than to have felt nothing at all. Simply because, with that debilitating pain, came the hope he so desperately needed.

"Are you okay?" Dr. Ashford asked, both sympathetic as well as concerned.

Edward fought to catch his breath, finally releasing his hold on the bedrails to drag his hands over his face. When he spoke, his voice was a combination of profound relief and near elation, "Yeah...yeah, I'm okay."

His breathless chuckle was further confirmation for Dr. Ashford that he had, indeed, returned to a tolerable level of discomfort. He nodded with an apologetic smile as he covered Edward's lower half once again with the sheet and returned to his bedside.

"Before we start talking about what's going to happen now, and what you can reasonably expect to experience over the next few days to weeks, is there anyone you'd like to have in here with you?" Dr. Ashford asked encouragingly.

"Yeah, actually," Edward sighed, resting his head against his pillow and turning it to look at the doctor. "My parents."

As his adrenaline faded, the haze stemming from the narcotics circulating in his system began to slowly return and he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, much of what the doctor was about to say would dissipate from his memory quickly. He needed someone with him that would comprehend everything they were being told, and much more, someone who would be able to retain the information as well.

"Absolutely. Just give me one second and I'll have your nurse bring them back," he nodded, stepping outside the room briefly to speak with Linda, the nurse that had put an end to the Cullens' earlier visit. When he returned, he held himself with a casual demeanor and lowered himself down into a chair beside the bed.

"So, do you remember anything from the incident? Anything at all?" he asked conversationally.

"Not really...just bits and pieces," Edward answered, shaking his head minutely as he idly wondered how he'd managed to remember the fire itself and the girl, but nothing really leading up to him being in the fire or away from him and the girl, Bella, being surrounded by flames. His mind was getting fuzzy again, his thoughts progressively becoming more disjointed and sluggish.

"I'm not really surprised by that. You sustained some pretty severe traumatic injuries," he paused, assessing him with a critical eye. "It's actually a miracle you've pulled through as well as you have so far. You're in far better condition than any of us could have predicted you would be the night you came in. It was really touch and go there for a while."

Edward tried to focus on his words, but his attention was being drawn away by the irritating tugging sensation on his left side, from what he now knew to be a chest tube. The discomfort jabbed at him with each breath he took, and the relentlessness of it was driving him insane. _Everything _was driving him insane. The constant pain radiating throughout his torso, the tender soreness of the healing burns on his arms, the numbness of his lower body, the drug induced cloudiness infiltrating his mind, the damn tube shoved in his nose and running down the back of his throat; the combination of all of it unceasingly barraging him was insufferable.

Without conscious awareness of it, he'd once again begun absentmindedly thumbing the medallion still threaded to his hand by its chain as his mind drifted further and further from the doctor's voice on a river of narcotics.

"Edward?" He heard his name along with a gentle tap against his other hand. "Stay with me, buddy. Just for a few more minutes."

"Sssorry," he slurred tiredly, his head rolling to the side just in time to see his parents approaching his room.

"Is everything okay?" Carlisle asked worriedly, his eyes darting between his son and the doctor as Esme quickly moved to Edward's bedside. Her hands automatically moved to her son, one covering his left hand and the other brushing over his forehead tenderly.

"I'm sorry, Mom," Edward murmured as he felt her warm fingers brush over his skin. His eyelids felt heavy and it was an effort just to raise them to look into her glistening eyes.

"It's okay, baby...it's okay," she whispered to him, her head shaking slowly as a tear stealthily escaped her Herculean efforts to keep them at bay and she leaned over the bedrail to place a kiss on Edward's forehead.

"Everything's fine," the doctor assured with a kind smile just as Esme stood up straight, clasping her comforting hands around Edward's relaxed fist. "Edward just wished for you both to be present while I explained how we're planning to move forward now that I have a general idea of where Edward stands in regards to the possibility of recovery."

Esme and Carlisle gazed at each other, both hanging apprehensively on the doctor's every word; both hopeful and fearful of what news would be parted to them. Three long weeks they'd been vigilantly waiting for word on the fate of their son's future, and now that the moment was upon them, they were shaking with trepidation.

"Is there?" Carlisle asked fretfully, covering both Esme's and Edward's hands with one of his own. "A possibility for him to walk again, I mean."

Dr. Ashford looked between Edward's parents, knowing there was no definite answer he could give them, but not wanting to destroy their hopes either. He simply wasn't sure if Edward would ever recover full use of his lower extremities or just some varying degree of minimal mobility and sensation. The possibility of a full and total recovery was dependent upon too many factors, most of which were completely out of his hands.

"I'm hoping for the possibility of it," Dr. Ashford started. "I performed a short and rather basic neurological exam, so I have a baseline idea of what we're working with, but it will take some time for me to be able to give you a realistic prognosis."

He paused, regarding their sinking expressions carefully before continuing.

"Please, Mr. and Mrs. Cullen. I understand how difficult this is for all of you, but what Edward will need over the course of the next few weeks and months is for you all to remain positive and hopeful."

"I'll walk...again," Edward mumbled, beginning to lose his battle against the overpowering drugs in his system and allowing his eyes to close.

"I like that attitude, Edward. Determination can go a long way in rehabilitation," Dr. Ashford chuckled before turning his attention back to Edward's parents. "I'm fairly certain right now that the lack of motor ability and decreased sensation I noted during the physical exam are due to his spinal cord still being swollen. It's imperative that we get that down as quickly as possible because the longer it remains in that state, the higher the risk is that his nerves will suffer permanent damage. I'm going to put him on a stronger corticosteroid to try and bring that swelling down faster, and I'm hoping that as it reduces we'll see further improvement."

"Is there a reason it's still swollen? He's been on all sorts of medications for weeks now, shouldn't it have gone down already?" Esme asked worriedly.

"I wish there was a justifiable cause that I could pinpoint for you, but there isn't, I'm sorry," he apologized sincerely. "The truth of the situation is that he's sustained multiple traumatic injuries and his body can only heal at its own rate. We will do everything possible to help him where we can."

Esme and Carlisle listened attentively as Dr. Ashford explained the course of rehabilitative care that Edward would be undergoing, up to and including the start of nerve stimulation and basic physical therapy. Edward tried to remain focused on the doctor's voice, but was only able to comprehend minimal pieces of the information being relayed in his exhausted and barely conscious state. The only concept he truly understood completely, was that the next few months of his life would be a continuous uphill battle...

But even in his tired, pained, and drug altered state, he braced himself for the fight of his life.

Because it was one he intended to win at any cost.

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**A/N****: See you all next week with review reply teasers and a new chapter! ^_^**


	14. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: Twilight character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. All intellectual properties associated with _Through the Flames_ belong to SparklingTwilight. Plagiarism is theft. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization. Thank you.

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The Vulnerability of the Mind vs The Strength of the Heart

As Dr. Ashford departed the room, Esme crumbled into the chair beside the bed. Her knees had been threatening to give out on her for nearly an hour, her body too physically and emotionally drained to continue supporting her slight weight. At fifty one, she was at the lowest weight she'd ever been in her adult life, her frail form having taken the brunt of her grief, worry, and overwhelming heartache.

Carlisle stepped to her side, placing a hand on her back and rubbing comforting circles as she wept silent tears. The prominent sharpness of her shoulder blades unnerved him greatly, the visual and tangible deterioration in the health of his family wreaking havoc on his already destroyed nerves.

The disturbing bruise-like circles under all of their eyes belied what little amounts of sleep each member of his family attempted to reassuringly admit too. The truth was not a one of them had slept soundly for longer than an hour or two at a time for nearly a month.

Carlisle had borne witness to Emmett, his youngest son, wearing himself so thin he'd become physically ill from the combination of sleep deprivation and constant emotional distress. On top of the strain his health was sustaining, his marriage as well was beginning to buckle under the burden of the family's tragedy. His available vacation time had run its course and with Rosalie being unemployed, they'd be facing financial hardship shortly if he didn't return to work. It had become the source of severe upset within the couple's once solid and happy relationship. While Carlisle couldn't, in good conscience, permit him to return to work because of his emotional, mental, and physical states, he also couldn't afford to financially support his son's household as well as his own. He was at a loss for what to do because any way he looked at it, it was a lose-lose situation.

Jasper looked worse for wear having earned himself four stitches to the corner of his eyebrow at one point during the endless weeks of unchanging waiting. Unrested and malnourished, his body had no longer possessed the strength it needed to ward off the fatigue he'd been battling for days on end. When he'd collapsed, the corner of his brow shouldered the consequences of his exhaustion when it met the unforgiving wooden edge of a chair. It had been that night, the night he'd spent in the emergency room of the very same hospital they'd practically been living in, that he returned home for the first time since the incident and found that Alice had packed all of her belongings within the apartment in preparation to move out. Until that night, she'd been bringing him fresh clothes and supplying him with toiletries with which to shower and shave in an empty patient room.

Carlisle wasn't sure if they'd spoken a word to each other since the horrific fight they'd had that night or not, but he was certain that, to date, she hadn't yet moved out — nor had he returned home. He and Esme had been trying to steer Jasper and Alice away from marital ruin for over a year, but it had become evident that their efforts had been entirely made in vain.

His family was falling apart at the seams, and there was nothing he could do to fix it — just like there was nothing he could do to miraculously heal his first born son.

He felt helpless. Completely, utterly, and _staggeringly_ helpless.

"Mom..." Edward mumbled, barely possessing the strength to crack his eyes open and allow them to see a hint of the vivid green hidden behind the pale lids and dark lashes.

"Yeah, honey? I'm right here," Esme sniffed, giving his loose fist a gentle squeeze.

"Thirsty," he rasped, unable to succumb to his exhaustion with the discomfort in his throat.

"They won't let you drink anything yet, but let me see if I can at least get you some ice chips or something for now," she replied, instantly moving to lift herself from the chair.

"I'll go," Carlisle stopped her, needing to feel like he was helping somehow. "Stay with him, I'll be right back."

Edward watched his father quickly retreat from the room like a man on a mission until the movement of his thumb across a rough surface drew his attention down to his hand. He nearly groaned when he spotted the silver medallion between his fingers and realized he'd forgotten all about it, _again_.

He swallowed around the tube, a futile attempt at trying to moisten his throat that only made his eyes squeeze shut against the discomfort. He was in Hell; he was sure of it, and the only thing that was bringing him any shred of comfort was somehow the damn medallion he kept finding himself repeatedly worrying.

"Who?" he questioned barely above a whisper.

"Who what, sweetie?" Esme asked in confusion as her brows furrowed and created a subtle line Edward had never noticed there before. He wanted to ask her who the chain and medal was from, but he felt like his throat was being rubbed raw from the empty swallowing talking forced him to do. Instead, he turned his hand under hers and tapped her with his finger as he looked down at the medal.

"Oh," his mother breathed and he watched as a smile began to tug at the corners of her lips when she looked back up into his face. "Bella. It came from Bella, and this one..." she said as she reached over to lift the one that had been detangled from his other hand and rested upon his sheet covered stomach, "This one came from her father, Charlie."

Feeling completely wiped out, he lacked the energy to do anything other than nod just once as his thumb resumed its circular motion across the medallion's face. His mind was riddled with confusion.

Confusion as to why he'd awoken to Bella tending to his care.

Confusion as to why she and her father had given him Sainted medals.

And absolute bewilderment as to why she was still apparently visiting him so long after the incident.

Dr. Ashford had told him he'd been in a medically induced coma for nearly three weeks. He could have understood her stopping by a time or two the first few days, but she was still coming around that long afterwards? It didn't make sense to him, and his mind's muddled state wasn't helping him comprehend it either.

"She's a very sweet girl...Bella," his mother's voice cut into his broken thoughts and he tried to open his eyes to look at her, but they only cracked open enough to see the beginning spread of a wistful smile upon her face before they closed again upon their own accord. "She's been here nearly every day, even when she should have stayed in her own bed down the hall."

Esme paused, her eyes drifting from Charlie's chain in her hands to her son's face. She could tell instantly that he hadn't yet fallen back asleep, even though she knew he was exhausted. The puckered line between his eyebrows had made a reappearance along with his consciousness — the sight of it dichotomously relieving and dismaying for it meant that the son she had known had returned to her, but was once again carrying the weight of the world upon his shoulders. If only he could live a day without the burdens he continuously shouldered and without that nearly permanent stress line etched between his brows.

"Edward, honey...I know you and I know how difficult it is for you to allow anyone to help you...but please, sweetie, don't push Bella away and try not to make her feel any more guilty than she already does after Rosalie acted so horrendously toward her, okay?" Esme asked hesitantly. She thoroughly despised the idea of placing any additional weight onto his shoulders, but she truly didn't think she could handle having another member of her family hurt that wonderful young woman so deeply again.

"Mmhmm," he hummed automatically as her voice lifted in question. What he was giving his affirmation or acquiescence to, he had absolutely no idea as most of her words had been lost somewhere in the empty expanse between consciousness and slumber. The last thing he remembered before slipping away into a deep sleep was having wanted something to drink.

Nearly six and a half hours after being ousted from the ICU, Jasper could stand the wait no more. His parents had disappeared behind the steel gray doors nearly two hours ago at the request of Edward's witch of a nurse, and not a word had been spared in their direction since. With a growl of frustration he launched himself out of his seat and began anxiously pacing the small room, deepening the path into the carpet fibers he, and countless others, had been carving with their restless bodies.

"I can't take this shit anymore," he groaned, his hands furiously rubbing over his face and through his hair. "Nineteen days. _Nineteen_ fucking days we've done nothing but wait for him to wake up, and the minute he does and doesn't have that goddamn tube shoved down his throat, we get tossed out here to _wait_ some more."

As his hands rushed over his face once more, the tip of his index finger caught one of his stitches on the corner of his eyebrow, tugging the skin and making him wince. "_Goddamnit!_"

He wanted to scream. He wanted to punch something. He wanted to do _anything_ that would rid him of the anxiety that had been shaving decades off his lifespan for the last three weeks. In just three weeks, Jasper's entire life had gone up in flames and crumbled around him, leaving him feeling like he was standing in a pile of smoldering rubble. He'd watched his brother nearly perish in his greatest fear played out right before his very eyes. His wife had finally thrown in the towel and given up on him and their marriage. And to top it all off, he was flat broke with the undeniable knowledge that he could never return to the profession he'd felt obligated by family tradition to join.

That night and that fire, watching his brother run into that deathtrap without a second thought and then watching him plummet through the floor into the basement, had run continuously through his mind in an endless loop. He'd known the moment he'd taken his helmet and turncoat off that morning, when the fire had finally been extinguished and nothing had remained behind but a heap of steaming foundation and debris, that it was the last time he'd ever take that gear off — because two am that morning had been the final time he would ever put it on.

Jasper had never possessed what it took to live that lifestyle, and that's exactly what it was. Firefighting wasn't a career or a job — it was a _life_. You lived it day in and day out whether you were on the clock or not. It isn't something you do; it's something you _are_.

But it wasn't him.

In three weeks he'd not only nearly lost his brother, and most likely his wife, but he'd also lost himself.

"Jazz," Alice sighed softly, reaching her arm out to catch his hand as he neared her.

Just the slightest touch of her fingers against his wrist and he crumpled to the floor before her. A man on his knees in supplication, desperately needing just one piece of his life to not slip from his grasps as he burrowed his face into her soft stomach and shattered.

"Please don't leave me...please don't leave me..." he repeated his tear filled whispered mantra, his hands gripping the sides of her shirt as he rocked back and forth on his knees.

Bella, uncomfortable with bearing witness to what should be a private moment between a husband and wife, quickly averted her eyes, checking the clock above the doorway as she rose from her seat. Noting that the cafeteria would be closing in twenty minutes, she quietly excused herself, casting Alice an apologetic smile on her way out.

As the elevator doors closed behind her, she slumped against the wall, her hands coming up to cover her face. Their family was falling apart in bits and pieces and her heart broke for each and every one of them. Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she knew she was overstepping her bounds, but the love and heartache in Alice's eyes when she'd reached out for her husband, and his returning emotional collapse, proved to her that their marriage still had a chance to be salvaged.

But if they even had the slightest hope of saving it, they'd need help.

"Hello?"

"Irina? Hey, it's Bella...listen, do you remember that therapist friend of yours I got all that free legal counsel for? I need her number...I need to cash in a favor."

Bella snagged a pen off the lobby's reception desk and scrawled the name and number across the palm of her hand before heading into the cafeteria. She spoke with Irina for a few minutes as she loaded up two beverage trays with styrofoam cups and began filling them with coffee. She paused, the coffee pot hovering over the seventh cup as she listened to Irina ramble on about her visit with Walt, their old landlord, that afternoon. She couldn't recall having ever seen Rosalie drink coffee during any of their run ins with each other, but she had once seen her drinking some kind of tea.

"I'm sorry, Irina...what was that?" she asked, her attention having drifted as she eyed the selection of teas, trying to figure out which one she might like.

"I said Walt's going to reinvest the insurance settlement into a retirement property somewhere in South Carolina. He'd been thinking of selling the building for a few years now, and the building was worth way more than the place he's looking at buying, so he's going to go for it. He said he wants to cut all of us a piece of what's leftover because he feels horrible about what happened," she repeated and Bella nearly dropped her phone right into a steaming cup of coffee.

"Say what?" she sputtered. "Why?"

"Something about the wicked witch in 1B threatening to sue him for her losses. I told him she probably let her renter's insurance lapse and he should tell her to shove it where the sun don't shine, but he said he'd rather pacify her with a conciliatory settlement than be drug through a lawsuit that could take God knows how long. I meant to call you earlier about it, but things have been crazy around here. I forgot what living with my parents was like...and let's just say, I'm suddenly remembering why I wanted to move out so damn bad at the first chance I got," she grumbled and Bella chuckled under her breath. "You think you can talk to one of your lawyer friends and possibly get together some kind of legally binding contract for Walt so he doesn't get burned? You know she'll try to sue him even if he cuts her a check."

Bella sighed, giving up on her attempt to choose a flavor of tea and just grabbed a few different kinds, "Yeah, I can do that. I'll call Jay first thing in the morning. Lemme let you go, though. I'm about to have my hands full and, knowing me, I'll drop my phone and then everything else."

"Okay hun. We'll talk to ya soon," Irina replied and Bella laughed as she heard Tanya in the background yelling out "Sweet dreams sweet pea!"

After saying goodbye and goodnight to her friends and slipping her phone back into her pocket, she filled a bag with packets of creamer, sugar, and stirrers, and filled the last cup with steaming hot water before heading up to the register to pay. Nearly twenty dollars poorer, she headed back up to the waiting room and stepped off the elevator to the awaiting sight of the entire Cullen family, sans Edward, gathered closely together within the waiting room.

She patiently waited, leaning against the wall next to the elevator until Esme looked up with a soft smile and waved her in to join them.

"I brought you all back some coffee...I figured you could use it about now," she said, slightly apprehensively.

"Oh, that was very thoughtful of you, sweetie. Thank you," Esme replied graciously, standing to help her with one of the trays.

"Um...Rosalie? I wasn't sure what flavor tea you like, so I brought back a few different kinds, but if you'd rather have coffee, you can have mine and I'll drink the tea. Whichever you prefer," Bella offered as politely as possible. Their acquaintanceship hadn't warmed up even slightly since the night she'd been verbally lashed by the blonde, but Bella hadn't stopped trying to be casually friendly toward her either. And from the looks of it, her latest attempt hadn't chipped any of the ice off her shoulder either.

"Tea's fine...as long as it's decaffeinated," she remarked, not an ounce of appreciation or gratitude in her tone. Bella had to fight against rolling her eyes as she held the cup of hot water out toward her, only to have Emmett take it from her because apparently his wife was beneath accepting anything from the likes of her.

"Thanks Bella...you didn't have to do that," he smiled apologetically.

"No problem. Just figured I'd save you guys the trip before the cafeteria closed since I was going down there anyway," Bella smiled back, handing him the assortment of teabags — one of every decaffeinated flavor they had available.

As Bella lowered herself back down into her chair at the far corner of the room, she took in the sight of Alice and Jasper finally holding hands and attempting to comfort one another. And when she lifted the lid off her coffee cup to pour in a copious amount of sugar and creamer, she spotted the number scrawled across her palm and had to silently contemplate who that impending favor would benefit more — Alice and Jasper, or Rosalie.

"Bella, you're more than welcome to come sit up here near us," Carlisle offered, giving her a kind and encouraging smile. "Esme and I were just about to fill everyone in on Edward."

"I'm fine, but thank you. I don't want to intrude," she replied, busying her fingers with the plastic lip on her coffee cup. Carlisle had been nothing but nice to her since the night of the blow out in Edward's room, but after hearing part of their argument that she assumed hadn't been meant for her ears, she'd found it difficult to feel comfortable around either him or Rosalie. When they were together it was downright impossible to feel at ease.

Esme, at seeing Bella's hesitancy and the shadow of guilt that passed across her features, rose from her chair and crossed the room to sit beside her. As she reached out to place a comforting hand upon Bella's forearm, Bella's head turned and her gaze flickered up to Esme's.

"How is he?" she whispered, not wanting to disturb the others — a nearly impossible feat in such confined quarters.

"He's okay," Esme nodded. "He's asleep again, but we received some hopeful news. His paralysis might not be permanent and he's recovered a small amount of feeling in his legs. They downgraded his condition, too, so he's stable, and they're hoping to move him out of the unit sometime within the next week."

Bella nodded, her gaze drifting back to the lid of her coffee cup, "That's...relieving," she admitted upon a released breath.

"It is," Esme affirmed as she relaxed into her chair. "I'm sorry again about earlier. I wish you hadn't felt the need to leave."

Bella released the inside corner of her lip that she'd been chewing on and shook her head as she looked over at Esme. "It was a big moment for all of you. It wouldn't have been right for me to intrude on that."

"Isabella," Esme sighed. "Trust me when I say that you've more than earned the right to intrude, as you put it, in on any moment large or small in our lives."

Bella was just about to thank her for her kindness when Esme suddenly turned toward her with beseeching eyes. "Speaking of intruding...would it be too much of me to ask you to stay with him tonight? It's just...Carlisle and I haven't spent a single night at home since he was brought in and now that we can rest just a little bit easier, we could really use a night in our bed instead of chairs, and I just don't think I can leave knowing he'd be here alone. He's so confused every time he wakes up and it breaks my heart to think of him being alone like that."

Bella's eyes nervously darted around the room, taking in his siblings that would, undoubtedly, spend the night with Edward, and she hesitated to answer. She wasn't sure what answer to give as she'd be more than willing to keep him company, but she felt she'd be taking the opportunity away from one of the others if she accepted. It wasn't until she caught Alice's gaze locked intently on her, obviously having overheard Esme's request, and the silent nod Alice gave her that she finally answered.

"No...I mean no it wouldn't be too much. I can stay if it's okay with everyone else."

Twenty minutes later Bella stood awkwardly in Edward's room as she watched the entire Cullen clan retreat, each of them heading to the comforts of their homes for once. She'd already called her parents to tell them she'd be home in the morning, just so they wouldn't worry — even though she fibbed a little about where she was spending the night. She knew for a fact her father would have had a conniption if he'd known she was planning to spend the night in a padded chair in her condition rather than in her own comfortable bed, small as it may be.

She put down her emergency oxygen pack on the edge of the counter, hoping it'd be out of the nurse's way, and tossed the bag of magazines and puzzle books Esme had left for her into the chair. Her eyes flickered over to Edward's face only to see him still sleeping soundly and snoring faintly. The serene sound of it, no longer inhibited by a ventilator, or marred by beeping machines surrounding him, as the nurse had silenced his telemetry monitor for the night, made a faint smile cross her lips as she wandered over to the wall of photographs.

"Mrs. Cullen's letting someone else stand guard for a night, huh?" a woman's voice startled Bella, making her gasp, a hand flying to her chest as she spun quickly toward the woman.

"Sorry, sweetie. Didn't mean to sneak up on you. Was just coming in to check on Edward and Mrs. Cullen," she chuckled lightly, moving further into the room.

"It's okay," Bella breathed, trying to calm her racing heart as she watched the woman erase Linda's name from the dry erase board and write her own down. She even added a little smiley face next to it; Kara.

"What's your name, hun?" Kara asked, only briefly glimpsing at her as she tended to Edward.

"Bella," she answered, trying to stay out of her way as Kara moved to the other side of his bed to check his telemetry monitor.

"Ahh, so you're the infamous woman I've heard so much about," Kara sniggered, casting Bella a teasing smile. "Mrs. Cullen is quite fond of you, no wonder she chose you to take her place tonight."

Bella had no idea what to say to that, or what to think of the fact that Esme had apparently been speaking kindly of her to one of Edward's night nurses, so she just returned her smile and lowered herself down into a chair.

"Okay, he should be good for a while," Kara said as she turned away from her patient and toward Bella. "I have another patient right next door tonight, so if you need anything and I'm not right outside the room, just give a little knock on window. Esme has a stash of a blanket and a pillow on the left side of the cabinet under the sink. I'm sure she wouldn't mind if you used it, but I can get you something else if you'd like, though hers would be much more comfortable."

"I'll be fine with hers, but thank you," Bella smiled graciously.

"Do you need anything before I go check on my other patient?" Kara asked, stepping into the doorway and Bella shook her head.

"Okay. Well if you get thirsty, there's an ice and water machine in the break room just around the corner. There should be some cups you can use in one of the cabinets as well, and if there are any snacks tucked away in there, you're more than welcome to them."

"I'm good for now, thanks. Is there anything I need to know for him? In case he wakes up?" Bella asked concernedly.

"The only thing I can think of offhand is he can't have solid food yet. They'll be starting him on a liquid diet in the morning and working back up to solid foods. If he gets thirsty, he can have a little bit of water, but if it's too uncomfortable yet for him to swallow, you can give him ice chips to suck on. That's about it though. If there's anything else, just come and grab me, okay?" she asked, her tone and smile friendly.

Bella thanked her one last time before Kara left to check on her other patient and then she was left alone with Edward in the nearly silent room. Not wanting to disturb him, when she turned on the television, she muted it instantly and sank lower into her chair as she flipped through the few available channels. Nearly two hours later, lounging between two chairs quietly pushed together and snuggled up in Esme's microfleece throw blanket, she was severely regretting that large cup of coffee she'd had as she was wide awake and without even a hint of drowsiness on the horizon of her consciousness.

Her mind was just as restless as her body and she didn't think she could endure another silent sitcom so she reached down into Esme's entertainment bag and began rooting around for something else to occupy herself with. Finding a worn from being read, and apparently enjoyed, book and a flashlight, she nestled herself back into the chairs as comfortably as possible and attempted to lose herself in a tale of romance.

By the time she reached the sixth chapter, she wanted to laugh out loud. It was the exact same kind of cheesy romance novel her mother had avidly read and collected for years. Phrases like "powerful erection" and "silk and virile heat" had her biting down harshly on her bottom lip to avoid cackling mirthfully. As hard as she tried to contain it, a slight snigger escaped her as she turned the page and made a mental note to remember the title so she could get a copy for her mother.

"Good book?" A raspy voice suddenly called out.

Bella jumped so forcefully that the chair her legs had been bent and propped upon went flying, screeching across the floor and unceremoniously dumping her previously slouched form onto the ground. She jumped up, dumping the book and miniature flashlight into the heap of blanket as a deep and gravelly chuckle floated across the room.

"Hi...you're awake," she breathed, her face flaming from embarrassment. How long had he been awake and watching her?

"Apparently," he replied, a fading smile still tugging at his lips as he tried to shift in bed. As his face contorted into a pained grimace, Bella extracted herself from the tangled blanket and moved to his bedside.

"Do you need help? Just tell me how...I don't..." she trailed off, still reeling from her mortification and realizing she was rambling.

"I need to...sit up," he informed her, his words interrupted by a fit of painful coughing.

"Here," she nearly whispered as she reached to press the button that would raise the back of his bed. "Just tell me when."

"Do you need anything else?" she asked, feeling a case of inexplicable nervousness begin to creep up on her after she'd helped him get situated. "Water, ice...the TV remote? Your mother left some magazines and stuff if you want one of those."

Even through his discomfort and waning awakening confusion, he couldn't help but chuckle slightly. He'd had no idea such an insignificant comment would work her up into such a frenzy. It was rather amusing.

"I'm fine, Bella...really," he replied, not wanting to burden her after startling her so bad that she fell to the floor.

"You know who I am," she breathed, her eyes widening in surprise.

"I wouldn't go that far...but I remember your face...from that night," he said, futilely attempting to ignore the irritating discomfort in his throat.

"About that night..." she paused, her fingers fidgeting against the bedrail. "Edward, I'm _so _sorry for what happened..."

"Stop," he halted her, his head shaking as his eyes closed. He didn't expect or even want an apology from her. He may not have remembered that night clearly, but he knew that his being in that building to start with had been because he'd chosen to go into it. He'd known the dangers, the risks. She had no reason to apologize for the consequences of his own decisions.

As his eyes reopened, he focused them on her shadowed face, backlit only by the light streaming in from the hall and the faint glow from the television flickering across her features. "I don't want an apology..." he paused, attempting to clear his throat and lessen the grittiness of his voice unsuccessfully. "Or a thank you."

Bella's eyes darted between his solemn ones, the vivid green hue she'd seen earlier in the natural light of day streaming into his room dulled to a murky forest green by the veil of the night's shadows that had taken over with the setting of the sun. She searched his eyes for answers to questions she couldn't even begin to fathom, desperate to understand the mind of the man before her. It confounded her that someone who had put _everything_, even his own _life_, on the line for another wouldn't desire at the very least a simple and sincere phrase of gratitude.

"How? How can I _not_ thank you for doing what you did? If it weren't for you, I wouldn't even _be _here," she sputtered, finally capturing the ability to put words to her confused thoughts.

"I was just doing my job," he nearly groaned as aggravation began brewing beneath the surface of his skin. If she'd only been coming around to express her guilt and gratitude, she'd done so and could leave. The last thing he needed was someone hovering over him with nothing but pity for him in their eyes, but when his eyes drifted back to hers, there wasn't a shred of the useless emotion to be found. Instead, her gazing dark depths flashed with defiance and determination.

"Well..." she breathed, steeling herself and her voice, "Too darn bad. I don't care if you were just doing your job or not. What you did...saving my life...deserves gratitude, so thank you."

Bella wasn't sure what reaction she'd been expecting him to have to her brazenness, but his hoarse laughter wasn't it. What perplexed her even further was that she couldn't even pinpoint where anything she'd said had been even mildly amusing. At her bewildered expression, Edward's laughter began to subside.

"Did...did you just say..._darn_?" he questioned, unable to stamp down his amusement even though his side felt like it was on fire. He couldn't recall having even heard the word since grade school at the very least. Even his own mother, who cursed about as often as an Atheist attended church, wouldn't have bothered with an attempt to clean up the word damn.

"Uh...yeah? So?" she replied, feeling suddenly self conscious and simultaneously concerned as he grimaced and reached across his torso, his hand coming to rest overtop the rubber tubing exiting his chest wall. "Are you okay?"

Her words floated to him on a gentle breeze of a soft voice filled with sincere concern. Edward's eyes opened, his prior amusement banished from his entire being by the searing pain in his side, and once again focused his gaze on her. Moments passed as he coddled his side, his mind wondering at her presence in his room, alone — without a single member of his family accompanying her.

"Why are you here?" he managed, forcing his gravelly voice through his arid throat and mouth. The constant questioning of her motives was wearing on him; the confusion behind why she had been visiting him and was continuing to do so draining him further with each awakening.

"I don't...understand," Bella shook her head, her brow furrowing as she looked at him sadly. "Wouldn't anyone in my situation be here? Do you not want me here?"

Her heart hurt at the thought that he might ask her to leave and not return, because she knew, regardless of all he'd done for her and how much she wished she could repay that kindness to him, she'd obey his wishes. She could handle Rosalie's unwelcoming demeanor, the discomfort of being surrounded by his family's palpable anguish, and even awkward silences that had arisen between herself and Carlisle, but she couldn't ignore Edward and what he wanted. He was the only reason she was in that room, and he'd be the only reason she'd stay away from it.

"No," he shook his head. He'd never given much thought to the number of victims that attempted to show support to those that had helped them and gotten injured, or even worse, in the process. He'd never given it much thought because most of them _didn't_.

He could have understood a card in his room from her and her family, or even a bouquet of flowers — that at this point would have been long since withered and dried up had he not been in an ICU and they'd been allowed in his room. He could have understood those sympathetic gestures, but her constant presence, not to mention the costly trinket she'd bestowed him, he couldn't even begin to understand.

Bella's eyes fell to her hands that laid upon the bedrails, the sudden tears building in her eyes as her heart plummeted to her feet, and she nodded as she chewed on the inside corner of her lip.

"I see," she whispered, nodding once again as she took a quick glimpse around his room, forcing her tears back before she looked upon his face. "I'd really hoped to get to know you after what you did for me and everything your family and friends have told me about you...I, um..." she trailed off, not really knowing what to say or how to make her departure any more comfortable for either of them. Truth be told, she felt incredibly foolish and her embarrassment was mounting exponentially by the passing moment.

"I hope you get better soon," she said as she backed away from the bed, internally cringing at her idiotic choice of words. The man was laying in an intensive care unit bed for crying out loud.

As Edward watched her turn and begin picking up and folding the blanket from the floor, his mind was racing, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. This woman...Bella...confused the living daylights out of him and as he spotted the IV attached to his arm, he nearly reached over to rip it out, hoping to cease the flow of narcotics entering his brain and making it _impossible_ to sort anything out logically.

"Where are you going?" he questioned, groaning slightly because his tolerance for the constant haze of confusion had reached its limit.

Bella quickly swiped at the tear that had escaped as she'd turned her back on him and turned back around, even more confused than she had been at any point in the last twenty minutes. "You..." she paused, rubbing a hand across her forehead. Her head was starting to pound with trying to keep up with him. "You said you didn't want me here. I don't want to be a burden or cause you any more stress than you're already under because that's the last thing you need."

She pulled Esme's folded blanket to her chest, wrapping her arms around it to comfort the onslaught of mixed emotions whirling around inside of her.

"No I didn't," he shook his head, his hand moving up to his throat as his voice cracked.

"Look, Edward," she sighed, clutching the blanket tighter. "I only want to help you in whatever way I can, but if you don't want me here then just tell me."

"Why do you...want to help me?" he asked, barely able to get his voice to carry the words. He tried to swallow, but when he did so, he promptly gagged as the tube in his throat shifted.

"_Oh God_," he whimpered, intense pain flaring up his back, stomach, and chest as the reflexive heave subsided.

Bella dropped the blanket back on the floor as she rushed back to his bedside, panic coursing through her veins as a tear slipped from his left eye and sped down the side of his face, disappearing into his hairline.

"Edward, what do you need? Tell me how to help you, _please_," she pled, her hands fidgeting frantically with her fear of touching him and hurting him even more.

As he fought to take in a breath that didn't send a shard of searing pain lancing through his chest, his telemetry monitor began wailing its alarm with his rapid spike in heart rate and drop in respiratory rate.

"Whoa there, bud...what's goin' on?" Kara questioned, sounding slightly breathless as she rushed to his opposite bedside. "Hey Bella, do me a favor and hit that yellow button on the right that says silence."

Bella turned and searched for the button frenziedly as Kara spoke soothingly to Edward. When she found it, she pressed it with a shaky finger and nearly sighed in relief at the cessation of the jarring alarm.

"What happened?" Kara asked, her eyes focused on Bella as Edward continued struggling to breathe.

"I don't know. We were talking and his voice cracked and then he gagged and...well..." she trailed off, her hands making circling gestures toward Edward, indicating his current dilemma.

"Oooh that had to hurt," Kara grimaced, her hand coming to Edward's forehead. "Edward, honey, don't try to take a big breath in, just try a few slow small ones for me. Was it the tube that made you gag?"

He nodded vigorously as he fought to take small breaths, his eyes screwed shut against the bursts of pain exploding in his chest.

"Do you feel nauseas at all?" Kara asked, pressing some keys on an automatic pump that was attached to one of his IVs. He shook his head against her hand, his breaths beginning to come slightly easier but the pain still radiating throughout his torso horrifically.

"Okay...it'll be okay. The pain should be dulling in a moment, just give it a second for the bolus to kick in," Kara told him in a soothing tone before lifting her eyes to meet Bella's terrified ones. "He might nod out for little bit with the boost of pain meds, it's nothing to worry about though, okay? As soon as he's comfortable I'll go fetch you both some ice and water. It sounds like the tube might have stuck a little to the inside of his throat...it happens from time to time when they try to empty swallow."

"I'll go get it," Bella replied, feeling like a useless bystander bearing witness to Edward's agony.

By the time she'd made it to the employee's break room around the corner, her tears had broken free and were streaming down her cheeks faster than she could swat them away. Inside the confines of the tiny lounge, furnished only by a small round table and four chairs, she braced her hands against the short counter between the ice machine and microwave.

She chastised herself for not getting him something to drink earlier even though she'd asked and he'd said he was fine. She should have known how thirsty he had to have been. Guilt pounded away at her as she questioned herself why Esme had asked her of all people, someone who didn't know him any more than a stranger she'd pass on the street, to stay with him. As she pressed her forehead against the edge of the top cabinets, she calmed her tears, taking deep breaths in and resolving herself to take better care of him — if he even allowed her to stay, because at that point, she wasn't sure if he wanted her there or not.

"Hey honey, you okay?" Kara's soft voice beckoned her from her self berating.

"Yeah," Bella sighed as she turned, attempting to smile reassuringly. "How is he?"

"He's sleeping. He fought it for a while...looked like he was waiting for you. You've been gone a while, you sure you're okay?" Kara asked, slipping into one of the plastic chairs surrounding the meager table.

"God this is so confusing!" she wailed, feeling as though she might start crying again. "One minute he tells me he doesn't want me there and the next he's asking me where I'm going. I can't keep up with him."

"Okay, spill it. I'm no expert, but he put up one hell of a fight against falling asleep for someone who doesn't want you here, so either there's a miscommunication somewhere or it's the drugs talking and you need to just ignore it," she chuckled lightly.

Bella groaned as she pulled out a chair and collapsed into it, leaning forward and resting her head against the palm of her hand. She wasn't sure where to begin, so logically, she started at the beginning, even including her moment of disgrace when he'd startled her out of her own little world. Kara listened intently, chuckling lightly from time to time along the way, but never losing her empathy for Bella's frustration.

"Oh, honey," she patted Bella's hand in a gesture of comfort. "I don't think he was telling you he didn't want you there when he said no."

At Bella's look of disbelief, Kara sighed and shook her head; a small, sad smile crossing her lips as she focused her gaze on Bella's. "I've been working here for the better part of almost thirteen years. I can't tell you how many times one of my patients has been a firefighter or a police officer, but I _can _tell you how many times the person they were trying to help when they got hurt became a frequent and familiar face at their bedsides as you and your family have for Edward."

"How many?" Bella asked curiously.

"Twice. You're the second," Kara answered, leaning back in her chair and watching as the information sank in. "Bella, I don't think you realize how truly amazing of a person you are. These guys get hurt all the time and most of the time, if they're lucky, they'll get a sincere thank you or a card for their efforts...but rarely do the people they save stick around longer than a few days at most."

"So you see, when he said no, I think he was answering your first question, not telling you he didn't want you there," Kara said encouragingly, patting Bella's hand once more as she stood from her seat to fish out a plastic pitcher and some cups for her.

Suddenly exhausted, mentally, emotionally, _and _physically, Bella took the pitcher of ice and cups from Kara, thanked her, and headed back to Edward's room. Walking through the doorway, she was greeted with the sound of his faint snore and the sight of only the light of the television flickering across his slumbering face now that the hallway lights had been dimmed for the night. After setting the items in her hands on the sink counter, she lowered herself into her chair tiredly, laying Esme's folded blanket across her lap and proceeded to watch him sleep.

A million questions weaved in and out of her mind, but her ability to focus on them had long since disappeared, and within a half an hour she found her head bobbing as she began nodding off against her will. It must have been the twentieth or so time her head had slipped off its resting spot on her palm when she opened her eyes and went to shift into a more comfortable position, but she froze when she saw his eyes were open and focused on her.

"Hey," she whispered, trying to mask the yawn that escaped her after she spoke.

"Hi," he whispered back, once again unsure if she was really there. The medicinal haze had returned in full force, leaving him feeling numb and disconnected from everything.

"Are you thirsty?" she asked, mustering up just enough energy to lift herself from her chair as he nodded. She silently poured some of the water in the pitcher from the melting ice into a cup until it was half full and then unwrapped a straw to place into the cup. Standing next to his bed, she pressed the button to lift the back of his bed a bit since Kara had apparently reclined it again once he'd fallen asleep.

"Here...Kara said to take small sips," she said quietly, holding the cup for him and bringing the straw to his lips.

He watched her closely, trying to clear his muddled thoughts. He took in the softness of her gaze as she watched him take small pulls of the cold liquid, how she caught the small dribble that escaped the side of his mouth at his first painfully forced swallow with the gentlest of touches, and finally how drawn her features were, either from exhaustion or prolonged worry — possibly both.

And in that moment, even through his drugged haze of confusion, he was able to come to the conclusion that she wasn't there solely out of pure pity or guilt. She was there, helping him and caring for him because she wanted to — because she _cared_ enough to, and he was okay with that.

What solidified his acceptance of her presence at his bedside was the tenderness she treated him with as she silently returned to his side after placing the empty cup on the counter and began passing a cool damp rag over his sweat slicked face and neck. He couldn't remember anyone, aside from his mother, tending to him with such compassion and gentleness.

He tried to fight against the heaviness of his eyelids as another bout of exhaustion crept upon him, but it was a losing battle. He forced his eyes open one last time, looking directly into her eyes as she swiped the cloth over his forehead.

"Bella...thank you," he whispered, his eyes closing slowly as he gave into the medication pulling him back under. He fell asleep quickly, but not before he heard her softly spoken reply.

"You're welcome. Sleep...I'll be here."

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**A/N****: Thank you so much to all of you who sent me messages, reviews, and forum posts etc to welcome me back and check up on me. You guys are AWESOME, and I 3 each and every one of you. *Muah* See you all next week! ~ Jersey**


	15. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: Twilight character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. All intellectual properties associated with _Through the Flames_ belong to SparklingTwilight. Plagiarism is theft. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization. Thank you.

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To Mask a Man's Pain with Humor

"Isabella," a woman's soft voice called her name, oddly out of place in her strange dream of flower petals floating atop the surface of a rippling creek. It had been the most tranquil dream she'd had in weeks with nothing but soothing sounds of nature and vivid beautiful colors. Her brow furrowed as she looked around her dream world for where the voice had been beckoning her from, but saw nothing aside from a vast and serene landscape, free of anyone but her for miles.

"Bella," it called her slightly louder, this time accompanied with a gentle shake that made the dream fade to the bright sunshine beating against her eyelids.

"Hm?" she hummed, shifting and biting back a groan as her stiff muscles screamed in protest.

"We brought breakfast and coffee. It's waiting for you in the waiting room," the voice said in a hushed tone and she became aware that it was Esme speaking to her. She cracked her eyes open, blearily blinking and trying to focus on her face.

"Mmkay," she mumbled, rubbing at her eyes and trying to wake herself up. How long had she been asleep for? The last thing she could remember was waking up around four am to Edward coughing horribly and sitting up with him for over an hour until he was able to fall back asleep.

"What time is it?" she asked, finally opening her eyes all the way as she stretched her sore muscles.

"A little after eight thirty. I didn't want to wake you, but they're getting ready to change out his catheter and give him a sponge bath. We can come back when they're done, okay?" she said quietly.

Bella nodded as she rose from the chair, noting that Edward seemed to still be asleep, and spent just a minute cleaning up the room. She tossed the rags she'd used over the course of the night into the dirty linen basket and her plastic cup into the trash while Esme folded her blanket and placed it and her pillow back into the cabinet beneath the sink. With one quick glance around the room, they made their way out of the unit.

"I'm going to go freshen up in the restroom, I'll just be a minute," Bella said, fighting back another yawn before breaking away from Esme and heading in the direction of the women's bathroom.

"My Lord...I can't believe she let me walk through the halls looking like this," she mumbled to herself, looking into the bathroom's single mirror.

Her hair was everywhere, sticking up and out in every direction from her ponytail holder, her mascara from the day before was caked around her eyes giving her the appearance of a raccoon, and vivid pink lines crossed her cheek from it having been pressed against Esme's throw pillow. It had been soft and comfortable for its small size, but the layers of fabric stitched together decoratively had left quite a mural on the side of her face.

She rolled her eyes at her reflection, knowing it would take a lot more than a sink and some paper towels to fix her appearance, but did what she could with what she had available. She'd skip away after breakfast to grab a hot shower and change of clothes — and Lord help her, a hairbrush — before coming right back to the hospital.

Exiting the restroom and heading toward the waiting room, Bella had expected to see the entire Cullen clan gathered in the room, but she was surprised to find only Carlisle, Esme, and Emmett.

"Where's everyone else?" she asked curiously as she moved toward the seat Emmett was patting beside him.

"Good morning, Bella," Carlisle smiled. Bella returned his smile as she lowered herself into the chair, relieved to see it seemed as though both he and Esme had rested well the night before. The ghastly evidence of their restless weeks had diminished significantly and their previously bloodshot eyes sparkled brightly.

"Morning," she smiled a bit more genuinely.

"Alice is working down in the ER, she'll get off at around four. Rosalie had a dentist appointment this morning, and Jasper said he'll be by after he tends to some things at the station...whatever that means," Carlisle shrugged. "He wouldn't elaborate."

"Looks like it'll be just me and you for a while today, Wheezer," Emmett chuckled, bumping his shoulder into Bella's as he referred to her by the nickname he'd given her a few days after hanging around her when she was still in the hospital. "Mom and Pops'll be cuttin' outta here in a bit to take care of some business for Eddie-boy."

"Ehhh," Bella scrunched her nose at him. "You'll be partying on your lonesome for an hour or two, Gigantor. I'm in desperate need of a shower and clean clothes."

He grinned and leaned over, playfully sniffing at her shoulder and making a big show of waving his hand in front of his face, "Yeah, please do cuz you stink to high Heaven," he laughed as he rolled his eyes.

"Here you go, Bella. Half cream, quarter sugar and quarter coffee, right?" Esme winked as she sniggered, handing Bella a steaming cup of coffee.

It was there, in that small waiting room as she shared breakfast with the three members of the Cullen family, that she felt completely at ease and as if she belonged for the first time. Gone was the awkward tension between she and Carlisle as he joined in the morning's newfound lightheartedness, and she relished in the feeling of truly being welcomed. All too soon, however, it came to an end. With breakfast finished, Bella followed behind Esme and Carlisle out to the parking garage to head home for the shower she so greatly desired.

Emmett, left behind on his lonesome and knowing he couldn't yet head into the unit to see his brother, pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and flipped it open, hitting his number two speed dial and pressing the phone to his ear. It only rang once before the expected voice answered on the other end.

"Yeah? Is everything okay with Edward?" Jasper asked worriedly, having not expected Emmett to call him.

"Pretty sure it is, haven't been able to go in yet. Mom said they're changing his catheter or something," he replied, running a hand through his hair as he approached his real reason for calling. "Are you really doing it? You're not even gonna talk to Dad first?"

Emmett's leg started bouncing as he heard Jasper's distressed sigh filter across the line, "Yeah, Em. I can't do it anymore, and I don't want to get into it with Pop because he just won't understand and he'll try to talk me into staying in the job. It'll be easier to just clean out my locker and hand in my resignation to Stillwell since he's acting Chief until Pop comes back."

"What are you gonna do? You've got bills to pay and shit," Emmett questioned, realizing suddenly that he sounded just like Edward.

"I don't know. Ali and I talked last night for a long time after we got home..." he trailed off, falling silent.

"And?" Emmett pressed.

"And..._fuck_...she wants to separate for a while. She says she wants to try to work things out, but she doesn't think we can do that and live together at the same time. Everything's so jacked up. I'm totally screwed here. I can't pay the rent without a job so we agreed she'd stay in the apartment...I think I'm gonna have to move back in with Mom and Pop until I figure my shit out," he responded, sounding completely at a loss.

"That sucks, bro. I hope you guys can work it out. I'd give you our spare room, but we turned it into the nursery. I can convince Rosie to let you have the couch if ya need it though," Emmett offered sympathetically. "It's comfortable at least...I know that because I've been sleeping on it for the last week straight."

"Rose still on her tirade?" Jasper tried to joke.

"It's not a tirade, douche," Emmett growled angrily. "She's right. I talked to Dad this morning and I'm taking another week off, but as soon as I go back I'll be picking up extra shifts to cover what I'm losing. I got a kid coming in less than two months and he'll need a home to come _home_ _to_. I can't just not go back until Edward's out of the hospital because there's no telling when that'll be."

It was strange for Emmett, being the youngest of the Cullen brothers and suddenly being a voice of reason and responsibility where Edward had always maintained the role. The aggravation he was feeling toward Jasper tore at him as he realized how many times Edward must have felt the way toward both he and Jasper. He'd always just gotten pissed off when Edward would start in on him or he'd laugh behind his back at how "holier than thou" he could come off as at times — but now he saw it for what it truly was.

Worry — endless worry at how he and Jasper ran their lives. He finally realized, sitting in that overly stuffy room, just how much grief he'd caused his brother over the years.

And it sickened him to the core.

"I gotta go, Jas. Edward's nurse is out here looking for his visitors," Emmett said, barely hanging on the line long enough to hear Jasper's "Kay, later" before snapping the phone shut and jumping out of his chair.

As he quickly made his way through the halls, his hand raked through his hair anxiously. If Edward was awake, it would be the first time he'd be able to actually talk _with_ him instead of just at him. And he had _so_ much to say but not a clue _how_ to say any of it. How does one go about telling a grown man, family or not, that they love him and that they're sorry for all the unnecessary stress he'd ever suffered because of them?

Emmett's hand fell from his head as he made it to Edward's doorway and his gaze lifted just in time to see his brother's eyes drift toward him from the television. His movement halted, leaving him awkwardly hovering in the entryway, neither completely in or out of the room but right over the threshold.

So many emotions attacked him at once as they took each other in silently; relief at seeing him awake and alert for once, heartache at remembering how he'd freaked out the day before when he realized he couldn't move his legs, sorrow for not being a better brother than he had been and not being able to offer him any type of true comfort in that horrible moment — but most of all, a spark of happiness at the half smile that tugged at the side of Edward's lips as he spotted him in the doorway.

"Hey...how you feelin'?" Emmett asked, finally moving all the way into the room and pulling up a chair next to his bed.

"Like I got hit by the old '67 Mack going full speed," Edward smirked, talking about the antique fire truck their city had and used in parades.

"I guess that's better than the '05 aerial in our bay," Emmett chuckled, knowing the top speed on "Ol' Man Mack", as they affectionately referred to it, was a screaming thirty seven miles per hour. He and Edward knew this firsthand because they'd pushed it to its limit on the highway once for kicks — and blew a gasket. Their father had been _livid_. Putting it lightly, he'd blown a gasket of his own that day.

"Where's everyone else?" Edward asked as he tried to adjust to a more comfortable position, an impossible feat considering no matter which way he laid he was still in horrible pain.

Just the slightest of movements had him second guessing his request for his caregivers to decrease the dosage on his pain meds. He'd been able to think more clearly since they'd taken it down a notch, but quite frankly, the level of pain he was now in was pissing him off.

"Running errands, the usual...you know...painting the town red and all that," Emmett shrugged, rubbing his palms against his denim shorts. "So listen," he started, pausing to clear his throat and shift uneasily in his seat. "I uh...I want to tell you I'm sorry for all the shit I've put you through over the years...especially the last few."

"Em...this isn't necessary," Edward groaned, leaning his head back to stare at the ceiling.

"No, it is," Emmett argued, the break in his voice making Edward's gaze dart in his direction. "It is," he nodded, tears building in his eyes, "I...we've _all_ taken you for granted and I don't think any of us ever tell you enough how much we love you. These last few weeks..." he trailed off, shaking his head as his words got trapped beneath the lump in his throat, his mind giving him an instant replay of every nightmarish moment.

"Emmett, stop. I get it, okay? It sucked, but it's over," Edward said, severely uncomfortable with watching his brother struggle so tremendously over words. "It's over, Em. I'll be fine. Let it go."

Minutes of silence passed between the brothers as Emmett fought to compose himself and Edward granted him what privacy he could by focusing his attention back on the television.

"So, uh...what's the deal with the cliffhanger there," Emmett asked, tapping his nostril when Edward looked over at him. "Why haven't they taken that out yet?"

"They have to make sure I can keep stuff down first," he huffed, not wanting to think about it because thinking about it made him focus on it, and focusing on it made it impossible to ignore it.

"What the...? You have to _swallow_ shit with that thing down your throat?" Emmett balked, grimacing harshly as Edward nodded just once.

"If I can keep "lunch and dinner" down," he said, making air quotes around the words because what they were giving him wasn't even _food_, "they might take it out tonight."

"Christ I hope so cuz that just sounds _painful_," Emmett replied, to which Edward rolled his eyes.

"It is...so's talking so shut it," he said seriously, but the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth gave his teasing away.

Emmett just bit the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning as Edward turned his focus back to the TV, giving him the prime opportunity to strike back.

"So I hear you finally got a woman other than _Mom_ to spend the night with ya...what was _that_ like?" he asked, cracking up as Edward's head spun back toward him, his face and ears lit ablaze like a five alarm fire.

"Such a prick," Edward grumbled, shaking his head and looking away. He wasn't about to admit it, but from what he could remember, it had been... pleasant. She'd at least been easy to be around, she hadn't driven him nuts like many people would have done and it hadn't seemed like she'd minded silence between them when he hadn't felt up to talking...unlike his oaf of a brother currently beside him.

"What's she like?" Edward mumbled the question hesitantly, studiously avoiding looking toward his brother as he felt heat creeping back up his neck, undoubtedly tingeing his skin a darker shade of inexplicable self-consciousness.

Emmett considered ribbing him over his newly onset case of bashfulness, but one momentary sideways glance from Edward had him backing down instantly. He'd prayed for the chance to be a better brother to him, and his first opportunity was staring him right in the face — figuratively speaking since Edward wasn't even looking at him.

"She's uh...pretty cool actually," he smiled as he replied, nodding as Edward turned his head slightly toward him. "She spent a lot of time in here hooked up to your oxygen valve just to keep tabs on how you were doing when she shoulda been in her own bed."

"Why? What happened to her?" Edward asked with concerned curiosity. Had she been hurt when he'd fallen, too?

"The smoke, when she was trapped inside...it jacked her lungs up real bad. She could barely breathe while just sitting in her bed doing nothing but she still managed to make her way down here a few times a day. Her dad told Pop the doctor said she'll probably have respiratory issues for the rest of her life, but honestly, she's just happy to still be alive," Emmett explained. "It was a close call though. I almost didn't catch her in time."

"What's wrong?" Edward questioned, not understanding the sudden downward pitch of his brother's expression. Emmett had saved her in time, and he, himself, had survived — so what was with the dismal look?

"I just...I keep thinking about that night and wondering if we'd disregarded Dad's orders like you did, if we would have been able to save you both," Emmett admitted as he picked at his fingers. "And sometimes, when I think about it too much, I get pissed at _you_ for being stupid enough to run in there like that. I mean...for shit's sake, Edward," he groaned as he looked up at his brother, gesturing wildly with his hands, "The building was _collapsing_...but then I think about Bella...and now that I've gotten to know her, I get pissed at myself for not going in there after both of you."

Edward looked away from him, staring at the wall of photos across from his bed; at various memories from his life, but wasn't really seeing them as he thought through what Emmett had said.

"For what it's worth," Edward spoke after a series of silent moments, his gaze drifting back toward his brother. "I'm glad you didn't."

When they'd knocked his pain killer dosage down, he'd begun remembering bits and pieces from the night of the fire. Not enough to piece the entire event together, but enough to know that what he'd done had been insanely reckless and, unquestionably, the stupidest thing he'd ever done. Had it not been for the rest of his squad following his father's orders — the one's he'd directly disobeyed — his actions would have put them all in grave danger.

It was one thing to put himself in danger, but it was something altogether different to put his entire squadron at risk as well. Even so...

"Hey," Emmett's voice and snapping fingers brought him out of his thoughts.

"Huh?" Edward mumbled, realizing he'd zoned out while his brother had been talking.

"I asked if you gave her a hard time last night...Bella," Emmett reiterated. "You didn't did you?"

"I don't...think so," Edward answered, unsure. Just like much of everything else as of late, he could only recall bits and pieces of the previous night. He could remember, however, that he'd woken up briefly sometime after the sun had risen and she'd still been there, seemingly sleeping soundly, so he couldn't have been that horrid to her. At least he assumed he hadn't. God only knew how he'd acted while drugged beyond oblivion.

"I hope not...she's been taking enough shit from Rosie lately," Emmett grumbled, rubbing his face agitatedly. Her interactions with Bella had caused even more fights between him and Rosalie as of late than even their impending financial hardships had. He was pretty certain that if Rose didn't soften up soon, and Jasper came to stay with them, they'd be sharing the couch indefinitely.

"Why?" Edward asked, wondering why Rosalie would have a problem with someone she didn't even know, or did she know her?

Emmett sighed, partially understanding his wife's reasoning but disapproving of it entirely. Regardless if Bella was the _reason_ Edward had been hurt, it hadn't been her _fault_. And the distinction between the two were clear as day to him.

"She blames Bella for..." he trailed off, gesturing toward his injured brother in the bed.

"That's bullshit," Edward growled angrily, clenching his medallion in his fist as he felt his feeding tube shift slightly in his throat and was forced to swallow dryly against it so he wouldn't gag. His liquid breakfast needed to stay put or he'd lose his chance to have that damn irritating tube taken out later that night.

"You okay, bro?" Emmett asked worriedly, taking in Edward's pained face and bobbing throat.

Edward nodded slowly as he opened his eyes, not trusting himself to speak again just yet, and motioned with his hand for Emmett to find something for him to write with. As soon as he returned, Edward scrawled a quick and messy note on the scrap of paper and held it up in front of Emmett.

_Tell her I said Knock. It. Off. _

Nearly an hour later, the stilted conversation - caused by Edward's inability to continue talking without severe discomfort - eased its way into a bearable silence between the two men. As Emmett surfed through all fifteen channels on the television, persistent in his search to find something other than daytime soap operas or talk shows to watch, Edward closed his eyes and allowed his mind to drift.

The errant thought of wondering if anyone had thought to gather his mail while he'd been out of it led him to thinking of all of his responsibilities that had probably gone ignored in his absence. He wanted to ask Emmett who had Tango, if anyone had known where to find his checkbook to pay his bills, or if they'd even gone to his house at all over the last three weeks. He could only imagine how tall the grass had gotten, and he was nearly sure that his refrigerator's contents could now be classified as science experiments at the very least. That is, if they hadn't already transcended into biohazard material territory.

"Hey thanks for the heads up, _asswipe_," a familiar voice suddenly resounded within the room. "What'd ya forget my phone number?"

Edward's eyes opened and focused on Alec just in time to see him jestingly punch Emmett in the shoulder.

"Mornin' sunshine, sleep well?" Alec grinned, getting Edward to roll his eyes and flip him off.

"F-off," he grumbled hoarsely, but the corner of his lips turned up in a smirk.

"What are you doin' here, man? I thought you were workin' today. I was gonna call ya later tonight," Emmett said, addressing Alec as he pulled up a chair beside him.

"I am," Alec nodded. "Got a text from Bella this morning telling me Eddie here had been taken off the vent and was awake. Nice to know at least _someone_ around here keeps me in the loop."

"Sorry...it's just been kinda crazy these past few days," Emmett responded, feeling horrible that no one had called him.

"S'ok, I kinda figured. Anyway, we just got off a call not too far from here so the guys dumped me off. I got about twenty minutes or so before they get back," Alec said, waving off the overlook and focusing on Edward. "So how ya feelin, bro?"

"Like hell," Edward rasped, completely truthful. He was uncomfortable after having been in nearly the same position for so long, but moving caused him horrific pain and his lowered dose of pain medication wasn't cutting it anymore as it was.

"So I take it now's not a good time to tell ya I backed your truck into a pole, huh?" Alec asked, making Edward's eyes shoot open as his head darted to the side.

"You didn't," he fumed, narrowing his eyes until Alec started laughing.

"No," he shook his head. "I didn't, but I did use it for a week or two. It's in your garage safe and sound now, and I even filled the tank."

"_Asshole_," Edward breathed, his head falling back against his pillow as his anger slowly subsided. After a few seconds, he began to chuckle under his breath as he shook his head, staring at the ceiling. Only Alec would say something stupid like that to take his mind off of his current woes — if only for a minute or two.

Twenty minutes had never before flown by so quickly in Edward's entire life, and nearly all of it had been consumed by Emmett's attempts to fill Alec in on all of the happenings over the last few days. Before he knew it, Felix's voice was crackling softly through Alec's radio, alerting him to their return. It was the first time since he'd awoken that he felt the undeniable pull toward the job that he'd felt his whole life, and he wished more than anything that he was down in the trucks with the guys rather than strapped down to his hospital bed by wires, IVs — and a pair of unmovable legs.

"Alright, I gotta bail, but I'll be back first thing in the morning," Alec sighed as he rose from his seat, not ready to leave, but needing to.

"Tell the guys I said hey," Edward mumbled quietly, the burdening weight of depression beginning to settle back upon him.

"I got a better idea," Alec smirked, moving around to the other side of Edward's bed and pulling his radio off his belt buckle. He brought it up to his face, smiling wickedly at his best friend as he spoke, "Hey Felix, everyone close by with ya down there?"

"Everyone but Newton...he went to take a squeedge. Why? Everything with Edward okay?" Felix's voice crackled through once again.

"Take the helm, bro," Alec grinned, holding the button down for him. A smile spread across Edward's face as he shook his head, knowing instantly what to say.

"What'd I tell you guys about radio etiquette?" he asked as Alec and Emmett burst out laughing.

Not a full second had passed before the radio erupted with the voices of at least six different men hooting and hollering Edward's name. It was ear piercing and chaotic, but the unrivaled enthusiasm in their discordant voices lifted some of the oppressive weight that had settled upon him like an iron spiked blanket.

And then, at precisely twelve fifty nine pm, Edward's smile grew even wider as the radio waves came to life again; this time with not only the sounds of his own crew, but those of every other department across the city as they let their sirens wail in unity — just for him.

The return of a fallen brother could be heard through every street and neighborhood within Tacoma, and for miles around, those who knew what it meant when their city's fire departments sounded off in unity...

They smiled.

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**A/N****: More B/E interaction coming up next week! Stay tuned!**


	16. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: Twilight character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. All intellectual properties associated with _Through the Flames_ belong to SparklingTwilight. Plagiarism is theft. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization. Thank you.

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The Heart of the Humble

When Bella had left the hospital earlier that morning, she'd never imagined becoming Edward's sole source of comfort upon her return. She'd gone home, showered, made a few calls and stopped by her boss's office, all the while fully expecting Emmett to have been with Edward the entire time, and even suspecting others would have joined him by the time she returned.

But when she'd returned at just before two, he'd been alone and asleep.

She'd quietly placed her bag on the counter and lowered herself into a chair, looking over the settlement contract for her previous landlord that Jay had thrown together on short notice at her request. Sitting in that serenely quiet room, she'd never imagined the relatively moderate sized room would become the stage for a horror show in just under an hour.

"_God_ _dammit_!" Edward wailed, gripping her hand to the point she feared it might shatter.

"Shhh...shhh...it's okay," she soothed, squeezing his hand back and running her hand across his forehead and over his hair as she lifted her head to look at the resident currently torturing Edward. "Can't you give him _something_? He's in _agony_ for crying out loud!"

This had been going on for far too long, but no matter how many times he cried out, he refused to allow them to give him anything stronger than he was already receiving to dull the pain he felt every time a jolt of electricity caused one of his leg muscles to contract. The doctor had warned Edward prior to beginning his nerve stimulation therapy that because his nervous system responses were abnormal, the procedure might either go completely unfelt or it could be incredibly painful — or any variation between. Even with that knowledge, Edward had chosen to forgo additional medication, and from the first jolt, Bella had highly regretted that decision enough for the both of them.

"Can't force it if he doesn't want it," the doctor replied absently, not truly regarding Bella as he focused on the dials of his torture contraption. "Only a few more to go, Edward. Are you still hanging in there with me?"

"Yeah...shit, hurry up," he panted, sweat pouring down his face as his breath caught and released raggedly from his chest.

Three jolts and one final wail later, the resident finally called it quits and set about removing all the electrode pads from Edward's legs. He spoke briefly to Edward while Bella fought to regain feeling in her numb, and just beginning to bruise, hand. She continued stretching her fingers as she doused a few rags with cool water.

"I'm sorry...about your hand," he apologized breathlessly, still reeling from the pain he'd gone through.

"It's fine, don't worry about it," she sighed, passing the cool rag over his heated face gently and watching as his eyes closed. "Better?"

He nodded, too worn out to speak but his eyes were full of gratitude when he opened them. Almost as if she knew what he needed before even he did, she grasped his small plastic cup and brought the straw to his lips. As she turned to replace the cup on the bedside table, she caught sight of his chain glimmering as it peeked out from a rumpled section of sheet. She picked it up and gently smoothed out the kinks before placing the medallion back in his palm and threading the chain back around his fist. He watched her closely, the softness of her gaze and tenderness of her touch, and he couldn't help but wonder who she was. Who she _really _was — this person who was starting to impact his life just as greatly as he'd impacted hers by rescuing her.

"Why?" he whispered, raising his hand slightly to clarify he was asking about the chain.

A small nostalgic smile curled the corners of her lips as she shrugged and gazed at the chain. "When I was a kid, in Sunday school we were learning about Saints. At the end of Mass when my parents came to collect me, I couldn't remember any of their names aside from Saint Michael the Archangel, because that was the one the lady had said looked after police officers."

Her smile grew as her eyes lifted to his. "My dad's a cop and he is, and always has been, my hero. And who doesn't want to keep their hero safe, right?"

Even though he was aware that her question had been rhetorical, he nodded anyway, uncharacteristically enthralled by her words as her gaze drifted away from him again.

"Anyway, call it superstitious or what you will, but my father has pulled through some pretty precarious situations over the years since I gave him his blessed medallion, and I like to think that it played a part in keeping him safe," she shrugged once more and forced herself to look back into his eyes. "After I saw you for the first time, I kind of just wanted you to have something to carry with you to keep you safe. A guardian angel for a guardian angel."

He couldn't help but smile and chuckle under his breath as he toyed with the medallion between his fingers, inspecting it closely and seeing the words inscribed on the back for the first time. Valor, Strength, Bravery...the words firefighters live by every day.

"Well I'm no angel...but, thank you," he said sincerely.

Edward had never been one to wear jewelry of any kind, nor had he ever felt compelled to purchase a Maltese cross pendant like many of his firefighter brothers possessed — either from buying it for themselves or having had it gifted to them at some point. But even for those who owned them, Edward had always viewed the medals as ways in which they showed their pride in their careers, or their loyalty to their department as many of them had their station number engraved upon them.

He thought about the one Emmett owned — that Rosalie had given to him for Christmas one year — and wondered if his brother's cross held even a fraction of the meaning behind it for his brother that the one held in his own hand now did for himself. Granted Emmett's cross was a traditional profession based one, with a helmet, axe, ladder, and bugle in the center and a fire hydrant and another ladder on the sides of the cross like most of the guys in the department owned; not an actual Saint Florian pendant as his was.

It wasn't, however, the Saint upon the medal that meant much to him, but rather, the belief and reasoning behind why she'd given it to him that, in the span of a moment, had turned it from a hunk of metal into one of his most valued possessions.

"Does your dad want his back?" Edward asked, his eyes catching sight of the worn chain and pendant pinned to the wall above the department t-shirt people had signed. He couldn't imagine him not wanting it returned with the knowledge of how much it must mean to him.

"No," Bella chuckled as she shook her head, looking at the tarnished charm that had once shone brilliantly. "My mom and I bought him a new one. He said when he gave it to you he told you to keep it for the next eighteen years or something."

As silence descended upon them, Bella thought back to the night before and the confusion she felt, and continued to feel, over whether or not he cared for her accompaniment. She fidgeted nervously, pinching part of her lip between her teeth as the awkward silence continued on.

"Edward?" she breathed, her nervousness coming to a peak as his eyes flitted up to her own. "Is it uncomfortable for you with me being here? I mean..." she paused, her eyes nervously darting around. "I know it's awkward because we don't know each other and all, but, I meant what I said last night about wanting to get to know you. I just...I don't want to be a burden or bothersome to you if you don't want me here."

While he watched her body language portray her anxiety and listened to her hesitant words, he couldn't help but wonder what he'd done or said that had given her the idea that he didn't want her there. Her presence the few times he'd awoken had confused him, not understanding in his medicinal haze why she was there and tending to him, but he couldn't recall her having ever done anything that would have annoyed him. If anything, her presence and tenderness had been nothing but soothing outside of his confusion.

Chuckling at the oddity of the entire situation, he held out his right hand to her. Her brow furrowed slightly until he spoke.

"Edward Cullen...firefighter," he said, a smile tugging at his lips as she breathed a sigh of relief and took his hand to shake it.

"Bella Swan...unconscious victim," she replied, an answering smile spreading across her lips.

While he felt better that they'd formally introduced themselves to each other, there was still one little issue. It was apparent that she knew at least a little bit about him, given the time she'd spent with his family and how highly they seemed to think of her, but he didn't know the first thing about her in return.

"Well pull up a chair, Bella," he said, his voice strained as he repositioned himself in the bed, spotting his nurse coming in with his "dinner".

Before sitting in the chair she'd moved to his bedside, Bella fetched him another cup of ice water as the nurse got him situated. As soon as she left the room, Bella's face scrunched up slightly, taking in the items on his tray.

"What _is_ that?" she questioned, highly suspicious of the bowl of colored water.

"It's nasty is what it is," Edward grumbled after swallowing a spoonful. "Salty water."

"_Gross_," Bella grimaced. "I'd stick with just the dessert if I were you. Let me know when you graduate to solids and I'll sneak ya in some real food."

He wasn't sure how, but by some miracle he managed to force down everything he'd been given, saving the small bowl of flavored gelatin for last since it looked the most appealing. With a stomach filled to the brim with liquid, Edward's eyelids began to grow heavy. If it wasn't for how uncomfortable he was, he probably would have been able to nod off at a moment's notice.

"Having issues?" Bella smirked, looking up from the crossword puzzle she'd been doing with intermittent assistance from Edward to see him raising and lowering the back of the bed, trying to find a comfortable position.

"Yes," he grumped, letting out a huff of frustration as he gave up.

"Here, let me help," she said, putting the book down on the chair as she stood. "Wanna try laying on your side for a bit?"

He nodded as she took over the controls, reclining him before helping him roll slightly onto his right side and placing pillows behind his back to recline on.

"Now I can't see you," he grumbled, earning a snicker from her as she dragged her chair around to the other side of the bed.

"Better?" she chuckled as she sat back down. He nodded and watched as she went back to their crossword puzzle. "Four letter word for quarrel...tiff doesn't work."

"Spat," he answered, adjusting the pillow beneath his head and watching as a victorious smile spread across her lips.

As he watched her, he absorbed how different she was from the majority of women he'd ever known. The calmness she exuded and the ability to sit in his room without needing the distraction of a television or feeling the need to fill the air with endless chatter, as everyone else had during his brief spans of consciousness, was strangely comforting. He didn't feel pressured to converse with her when it caused him discomfort as he partially had when Emmett and Alec had been with him earlier. She was easy to be around, her presence felt almost natural in the room, and that was something he'd never experienced with a woman before.

Even Peanut drove him up the wall on occasion with her inability to just sit and _be_ for more than a few minutes at a time. But those weren't the only differences he noticed.

Her clothing wasn't flashy, didn't bear any of the trademark designer logos that his sister in-laws often wore, nor did she wear an array of expensive looking jewelry. In fact, she didn't wear any except a weathered thumb ring that reminded him of one of those candy and trinket machines at the exit of a store that kids routinely pumped their parent's quarters into trying to get the precise sticker or piece of junk they wanted out of it.

Emmett had been a sucker for those machines when they'd been kids and Edward clearly recalled his little brother throwing himself down on the floor once when he was about five or six after their father refused to give him yet another quarter. He'd wasted over two dollars trying in vain to get some flaming dragon temporary tattoo out of the machine, but each plastic ball he popped open had some girly design. Edward and Jasper had laughed hysterically at Emmett's pile of butterflies, flowers, and hearts, and later that night, while Emmett had been asleep on the couch, he and Jasper had transferred a hot pink and purple butterfly right onto his forehead.

"Tell me something about you," Edward said, wondering what her life was like. If she had any siblings that she once shared great relationships with, only to have them become strained over the years, or if she had friends that she was closer to than her own family. He wondered if the reason she was so different from the majority of people he'd known was because she was more like him than she was them — because much like her, he'd always been different than the majority of people around him as well.

"Like what?" she asked, closing the book and setting it aside, giving him her undivided attention.

"Anything," he answered, not having the energy to participate much in a conversation, but wanting to get to know her at the same time.

"Hm," she hummed, not really knowing what to tell him. "Let's see...I'm twenty four and an only child. I have one cousin, but I'm not close to her and only really ever see her like once a year. Usually at Christmas. I'm a bore...a real fuddy-duddy."

He ghosted a chuckle as he opened his eyes, "Why do you think that?"

"Because I am," she laughed. "I'm a homebody. I'd much rather spend a night with a bowl of popcorn and a movie in my pajamas than out on the town in uncomfortable shoes. I'm also a workaholic, and my job is just about as boring as I am...which is kind of fitting, though it's not the career I saw myself having when I was a kid."

"Which was?" he prodded, closing his eyes again.

"A cop...like my dad," she answered and then chuckled to herself. "When I was little, every year for Halloween I wanted to be a cop...well except when I was like six. I think that was the year I wanted to be Wonder Woman and I made my dad be Superman."

She paused, wondering if her mother still had the Polaroids from that year. Her father had grumbled under his breath for eight straight blocks as she skipped at his red and blue spandex clad side.

"Anyway, when I was in the second grade, my dreams of being a cop like my dad bit the dust. During recess we'd been playing cops and robbers, and a hostage situation arose...real scary right? A bunch of eight year olds holding one of their friends captive at the top of the jungle gym," she scoffed, shaking her head at herself. "But yeah, so a hostage situation arose and I had a severe panic attack. It sounds dumb now, but I've been prone to panic attacks since like age five."

"Did you really?" he asked, unable to stifle his chuckle as he focused his droopy-eyed gaze on her.

"Yep," she nodded, embarrassed. "Needless to say, that was the day I surrendered my plastic badge and handed my father my formal resignation...written in magenta crayon on yellow construction paper."

"So what do you do now?" he questioned, incredibly curious.

She sighed, shrugging her shoulders as her nose scrunched up slightly, "I'm a legal assistant. I admire people like you and my dad...even Alice, for having the ability to have such exciting careers, but ya know, it wouldn't really be good to have the person who's supposed to save you hyperventilating and passing out in the corner. It's safer if the most dangerous hazard I face while at work is like...choking on a dust particle or something. Like I said...I'm a bore."

Edward shook his head, laughing at her quirkiness. "Actually...you're pretty damn funny."

When he shifted in the bed, his chest tube tugged slightly at his side, making him hiss as he brought his hand around to coddle it. The sight of him in pain again brought Bella's spirits down like a sinking ship. Looking at the devastating effects of his heroism, she just _had_ to know the answer to a question that had been plaguing her for weeks.

"Edward? Can I ask you something?" she questioned softly, unsurely. When he nodded she averted her gaze, focusing on her jittering fingers. "Was it worth it?"

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, her eyes shot up to his, "I mean...everything you're going through now...was it really worth it?"

Of everything she could have asked, he hadn't been expecting that question. The airing of it sent his mind right back to his thoughts from hours before when he'd been processing how his actions could have put his entire crew in mortal danger. But no matter which way he looked at it or thought about it, his answer remained the same now as it had been hours before.

"Are you alive?" he asked. It was obviously a rhetorical question, but he expected her to answer, and she did.

"Yeah..."

He'd regretted many things he'd done in his life, but saving a life had never been one of them. No matter what condition he'd woken up in, or how much pain he'd go through while recovering, he'd never be able to regret saving hers — simply because her presence in his life, when she truly had no reason to be as she owed him nothing, wouldn't allow him. How could he possibly regret it when she was doing what so few would do by standing by his side? One look into her warm cinnamon eyes gave him the only answer he'd ever need.

Saving _her_ life was something he never would, or even could, regret.

He locked his gaze with hers, knowing had he not done what he had she wouldn't be sitting just feet from him, and he answered with every ounce of sincerity he possessed.

"Then it's worth it."


	17. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: Twilight character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. All intellectual properties associated with _Through the Flames_ belong to SparklingTwilight. Plagiarism is theft. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization. Thank you.

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The Sun Rises on the Battlefield

Friday evening, Edward's feeding tube was removed, much to his relief, and little by little he began making progress. By Sunday, he'd graduated from clear liquids to something the consistency of mushy oatmeal, but he, nor Bella - who he'd convinced to taste it after much debate - were truly sure if it was really oatmeal or not.

In the days that had passed, she'd become nearly a permanent fixture in his room, and one that he, amazingly enough, hadn't yet grown weary of. She made him laugh with her eccentricities; like Saturday afternoon when he awoke to find her sitting in the corner knitting what looked to be a pastel yellow doily. She'd scoffed at him and told him it was just the start of a baby blanket for his soon to be born niece or nephew. He just quirked a brow at her, because really, it looked like a doily, and the fact that she was merely twenty four and entertaining herself with an elderly lady's hobby was preposterous enough as it was. There was no way she was convincing him that holey ball of yarn would end up resembling anything even remotely close to a baby blanket of all things.

She also kept him endlessly entertained with stories from her childhood, and as the discomfort he'd suffered in his throat subsided, he found himself sharing some of his own memorable tales. Of all the outcomes he could have imagined stemming from the fire they'd both been victims of, gaining a friend hadn't been one of them; but gain a friend he had, and over the course of just a few days, he'd come to enjoy and even look forward to her company immensely. Her presence alone provided a counterpoint of lightness to the darkness of his slowly progressing recovery.

Sunday night he'd fallen asleep, alone for the first time that he could remember, but awoke at some point during the night to find Bella curled up with his mother's blanket in a pair of chairs pushed together. He had been barely coherent enough before falling back asleep to wonder why she'd come to spend the night in an uncomfortable chair instead of just coming by in the morning. So when he opened his eyes Monday morning, he wasn't all that surprised to see her sitting in her usual spot and working on another crossword puzzle.

"You know," he croaked and paused to clear his throat, trying to rid his voice of its groggy roughness. "When I told you to stay with me the night of the fire...I didn't mean literally."

His words, meant to be teasing judging by the slight smirk on his lips, slammed into Bella's mind with startling revelation. That _voice_ and those words that had haunted both her dreams and her waking hours had been _his_. They hadn't been a figment of her imagination, but a seemingly _impossible_ recollection from a span in time she'd deemed forever lost. How was it even possible that she'd subconsciously remember him saying those words to her when she'd been completely unconscious?

Catching herself mid-stupor as his smirk began to fade into a questioning, and possibly concerned, expression, she quickly rolled her eyes and forced a teasing smile upon her face. "Psh...I just come for the eye candy. You should know that by now."

"Eye candy?" he laughed, slightly curious over the strange look she'd just briefly had. "I think train wreck's more appropriate for my appearance, don't you?"

Try as she may to avoid the slight warmth creeping up her neck, her face flushed lightly as her smile grew as she threw him a teasing wink, "Who said I was talking about you? Have you seen the male nurse next door this morning?"

He narrowed his eyes at her as she fought off the laughter threatening to burst out of her, his lips mashing together in an attempt to disguise the amused smile lying beneath, "Somehow you don't strike me as the perusing the meat market type."

As she erupted into laughter, Edward couldn't help but join in. She had such a heartwarming laugh; full, deep bellied, and honest — not like the grating fake peals he'd grown accustomed to over the years from women attempting to be cute. He'd prefer to hear her rather unladylike snorts any day of the week, sincere as they were, than deceptive coy sniggers which always seemed to invariably be followed by a batting of the eyelashes.

"Ahh, ya got me there," she chuckled as her laughter subsided and she reached up to swipe away at the moisture that had accumulated in her eyes.

"So what was that look about?" Edward questioned while adjusting his pillow behind his head so he could see her more easily without having to raise the back of his bed. "Before the eye candy bit."

Her lips pursed as she nipped at the inside of her cheek, contemplating how ridiculous, or even insane, he was going to think she was if she tried to explain that what she'd thought was just a horribly haunting dream, had really been a manifestation of her subconscious memory. Figuring she couldn't possibly look any crazier after having kept vigil next to a stranger's bed while he'd been unconscious, she sighed and released the soft skin from between her teeth as she turned toward him in the chair.

"This is probably completely certifiable...but...after I woke up, after the fire, I kept having this dream..._nightmare_ really," she shook her head as she revised her description. "Anyway, I could never see anything in the dream, but this distorted voice kept saying 'Stay with me, Bella...Just stay with me'...and now I'm wondering if it wasn't a dream, but it was really you that night...your voice saying that to me. Crazy right?"

Edward just shrugged, not really seeing what was so crazy about it. After all, her voice had sounded vaguely familiar to him after he'd awoken, and she'd never said a word to him that night.

"I wouldn't say it's crazy...it's not like it's completely impossible for someone who's unconscious to not be at least a little bit aware of what's going on around them," he replied, wondering if it was possible he'd become familiar with her voice while he'd been in a medically induced coma.

He'd just been about to mention his recognition of her voice when a sudden tingling sensation, reminiscent of an extreme case of pins and needles, exploded throughout the entire lower half of his body. He gasped, nearly choking on the air rushing into his lungs as his torso lurched forward in shock.

"What the hell is that?" he wailed, ripping the sheet back as the feeling intensified.

"Edward? What is it? Are you okay?" Bella panicked, shooting out of her chair and rushing to his side.

"I don't..._aahh_!" he cried out, his hands flying to his left knee as excruciating pain tore through it.

"Bella," he gritted through his teeth, his horrified eyes locking on hers, "Get the nurse."

She was out of his door in a mere second, frantically looking for his nurse. Not finding her right outside the room, or even in the patient room next door, she ran down the hallway to the nurse's station, no longer looking for his specific nurse, but _anyone _to come to his aide. She grabbed a hold of the first person she came across and tearfully pled for their help.

"Okay...it'll be okay," the unfamiliar doctor attempted to assure her as he quickly made his way down the hall. "Go have a seat in the waiting room and try to calm down while we take care of him."

She paused in the hallway, terrified tears spilling down her cheeks as he looked back at her over his shoulder. "He'll be okay. I'll send someone for you as soon as I can."

As the gloomy gray unit doors opened, their mechanical whirl drowned out by a cry of pain from Edward's room, and Bella's watery eyes landed on Alec's tall form approaching from down the hall. A sob ripped from her lungs as her feet rapidly carried her in the direction of his quickening steps and she collapsed into his awaiting arms.

"Bella...what happened?" he questioned, his stomach lurching as sheer terror tore through his veins. "What's wrong with Edward?"

"I don't know!" she wailed as he gripped her tighter while she spluttered tearfully. "He was fine one minute...and then grabbing his leg and screaming the next. I don't know what's wrong!"

His legs nearly gave out as relief surged through him like a tidal wave. When he'd seen her face, his first thought had been that his best friend had taken a horrible turn for the worst, or even more horrific than that — had suddenly and unexpectedly passed away.

"Come on...it's okay, he'll be okay," Alec breathed as he guided her toward the waiting room. He led her to one of the seats and knelt down in front of her as she sat and buried her face in her hands. As she sobbed quietly into her hands, he fished his cell phone out of his pocket and quickly dialed Emmett's number.

"Hey, Emmett...something's going on with your brother. I don't think it's serious, but I think you should get a hold of your parents and Jasper and head down here," he spoke as soon as he answered.

"I'm on my way. Have you seen him?" Emmett asked, his heart taking off at a frantic pace as he shot out of the bed.

"No. I just got here and ran into Bella coming out of the unit in tears. She's a wreck, man. Whatever's going on, it has something to do with his leg," Alec answered, rubbing Bella's back as she cried into his chest.

"Shit...okay. Rose is calling my parents now. We should be there in about twenty," Emmett replied, yanking his shorts on with the phone pressed between his ear and shoulder.

As Alec slipped his phone back in his pocket, he rose from the floor and took the seat next to Bella, pulling her into his side and rocking her gently.

"Calm down, Bella...it'll be okay," he said softly, not liking the strangled sound of her breathing. "Come on, honey. Slow deep breaths."

Her head shook into his shoulder, her fingers clutching handfuls of his shirt as another sob ripped from her chest. She could feel her lungs tightening, making it harder to breathe with each broken and stuttering breath she took in, but she couldn't stop it. As a wet wheeze started to set in, her fear and worry shot through the roof. She couldn't be hospitalized and bed ridden again, not when something was obviously going wrong with Edward.

"Alec..." she whimpered as she began feeling slightly lightheaded. Her tears were coming down in torrents as she realized she'd left her emergency pack in Edward's room.

"Bella, come on. You gotta calm down and breathe or I'm dragging you down to the ER," Alec warned gently, moving to the edge of his seat and turning toward her.

"No," she shook her head violently. "No ER...I need my inh..." she spluttered, her words getting lost as she started coughing harshly.

"Your what?" Alec asked, rising from his chair, ready to throw her over his shoulder and storm down to the emergency room. He'd very nearly done so when she tried to repeat herself and started coughing so hard she'd triggered her gag reflux, but it was at that moment that Esme and Carlisle barreled into the room.

"Oh my," Esme gasped, rushing to her side as she rambled frantically. "Honey, where's your air pack? You're supposed to bring that with you _everywhere_. You didn't leave it home did you?"

Bella shook her head through her increasingly strangulating coughing as she tried to motion in the direction of the intensive care unit, not daring to try to speak again after making herself heave.

"Alec, go get Alice. She's working in the ER, see if she can get away for a few minutes," Carlisle commanded. "Esme, you stay here with her. I'm going to see if I can get into Edward's room. I think she may have left it in there."

As Alec and Carlisle sped out of the waiting room, Esme pulled Bella into her side and spoke to her soothingly while rubbing her arm. Bella tried to concentrate on the warm intonations of Esme's soft voice in a futile attempt to will her breathing under control while horrifying thoughts of what Edward was going through right at that moment combined with her fear of being trapped in a hospital room once again.

"They wouldn't let me in the room, but one of the nurses went in and got it for me," Carlisle's voice spoke rapidly, a barely concealed tremor of worry lacing his tone.

Bella's eyes shot open, her hand stretching out to reach for the bag urgently. On the verge of panicking, knowing if she didn't get her breathing under control by the time Alec returned with Alice she may very well be heading to the ER, she tore through the side pockets in the bag looking for her inhaler. Her eyes, still blurred with tears, couldn't focus on her shaking hands and it felt like it was taking her forever to find what she needed. More tears spilled down her cheeks as she began to hyperventilate, short bursts of whistling breaths entering and escaping her lungs.

"Sweetie," Esme sighed, placing her hand over Bella's trembling ones and taking the pack from her. "Let me."

"Thank...you," Bella rasped, taking the inhaler from her just a moment later with a quaking hand as Carlisle tried to help Esme untangle the oxygen tubing and get it connected for her.

"How many liters?" He asked, unsure what flow rate she'd been instructed to use.

"Six," Alice's breathless voice ordered as she jogged into the room, Alec hot on her heels, and dropped to a crouching position in front of Bella. With the ease of well practiced fingers, she had the tubing and mask connected and was affixing the mask to Bella's face within moments.

"Are you dizzy at all or feeling any tingling anywhere?" Alice asked, focusing her hazel gaze on Bella's face as she slid her fingers down to her wrist to check her pulse, which, unsurprisingly, was racing. She shook her head, even though she really was dizzy and her feet had just begun tingling moments before Carlisle had returned.

"Jeez, girl. Your heart rate is soaring," Alice mumbled more to herself as she tried to time it against the clock on the wall. When her gaze returned to Bella's, she locked on her deep brown depths. "Bella, I need you to be honest right now. Are you having a panic attack?"

Bella didn't answer for a series of moments, simply staring blankly into Alice's beseeching and worried eyes as they flickered back and forth between her own.

"Please, Bella," Alice whispered. "I know you don't want to be admitted again, but I can't help you if you don't let me."

With a pleading look, Bella lifted a shaky hand and tilted it back and forth silently, acknowledging that she was having a slight attack.

"Alec, can you go get me a cup of water?" Alice asked while digging through Bella's bag. As soon as she found the small white capped plastic brown bottle, she quickly read the prescription and pulled her cell phone out of her pocket.

"Who are you calling?" Esme asked worriedly.

"The ER..." she trailed off, holding up a finger as someone answered. "Can I speak with Dr. Wade please?" Alice's gaze lifted back to her mother in law as she covered the speaker of her phone with one hand. "They prescribed her 2mg of _Ativan_ to take if she began to have a panic attack, but she's already in slight respiratory distress. I'm not sure it's safe for her to take that dose right now."

"How's your breathing? Is it getting any better?" Alice asked, turning her attention back to Bella as she continued to wait on the line.

"A little," Bella rasped behind her mask, nodding minimally. Alice checked the clock quickly as she picked up Bella's inhaler and shook it for her before handing it to her. "Take two more puffs, I don't think you got much the first time around with your shallow breaths."

Bella did as she was told while Esme wrapped her arm back around her shoulders and Carlisle came to sit on her other side. Alec returned just as Alice rose from the floor and began speaking with the person she'd requested to be connected to, and he took her spot on the floor in front of Bella. She nearly jumped in her seat, her eyes shooting back open when Carlisle took a hold of one of her hands, holding it between his rough calloused ones and gently caressing her fingers. Ever since the night she'd heard he and Rosalie arguing, he'd been casual and even friendly toward her, but affectionate gestures hadn't ever been anything he'd bestowed upon her; not that she'd ever expected him to.

In truth, the affection and warmth Edward's mother showered her with regularly still occasionally caught her by surprise. She almost withdrew her hand from his as her discomfort with her inability to distinguish whether or not his gesture was forced or sincere came to a peak. Over the last few days since Edward had awoken, her wariness of his father had faded into the back of her mind with their continually friendly interactions, but his reaching out to comfort her brought it all rushing forward once again. However, she couldn't allow herself to give into that discomfort while still nearing the brink of a full fledged panic attack. Instead, Bella closed her eyes again and allowed herself to accept the comfort he was trying to provide her.

Alec, glancing between the tiny hand held between Carlisle's massive ones and his worry filled eyes, cracked a hidden smile as he ducked his head, knowing Bella had won him over just as wholly as she had nearly every one else.

Including Edward.

"Okay, I have two options for you," Alice spoke as she rushed back into the room, tucking her phone back into the front pocket of her scrub top. "You can either take half of one of your pills, or I can run down and grab you one of mine that's only half a milligram. If it's not that bad, he'd rather you have the lesser dose. So which do you prefer?"

"Ali, sweetie. Why are you taking _Ativan_?" Esme questioned, having not known she needed such a medication.

"I've been having a hard time..." she trailed off, shaking her head, not really wanting to answer. "It doesn't matter, Esme. I'm fine, it's nothing to worry about. I just needed a little help keeping my nerves under control recently."

It wasn't a lie, as that was the reason she'd been given the medication, but the timeframe of recently was a stretch. She'd been prescribed the medication nearly six months prior when her anxiety over her failing marriage had begun to wreak havoc on her mental state. Her doctor had prescribed her the low dose _Ativan_ to help calm her nerves during the day, and _Ambien_ to help her sleep at night since the prolonged months in which she'd barely slept at night hadn't been helping her emotional or mental well being either.

"Do you want one of mine? I'd really rather you took one of mine if you don't think you need more," Alice urged gently and telling her she'd be right back after Bella agreed.

Esme watched Alice retreat with saddened eyes that she turned toward Carlisle as Alice disappeared from her view. "You don't think she's been taking that because of the troubles she and Jasper have been having, do you?"

"Esme...now's not the time," Carlisle groaned, and instantly Bella gently retracted her hand from within his, feeling like the outsider she truly was. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shrink herself into her chair enough to disappear as she wished to in that moment.

"Sorry," Bella mumbled, her eyes cast down toward her lap as she picked at the hem of her shorts. "I don't...I shouldn't..."

"Bella," Carlisle sighed, taking a hold of her hand again. "Look at me, please?" he asked, patiently waiting until her gaze hesitantly drifted up to him. "Now not being the time has nothing to do with you. If they wanted our help, they can come to us. There's just no sense in Esme and I talking ourselves to death over the why's behind her taking the medication when if she wanted us to know why, she'd tell us...which obviously she didn't and doesn't. It's not because of you that I don't wish to talk about it right now, okay?"

She didn't know what to say, so she merely nodded, unsure if his words were sincere or not. It seemed their family concealed more hidden truths from one another than she wished to be privy to. Bella disliked the amount of knowledge she already withheld after knowing their family for such a short period of time, but what little she knew, she felt wasn't her place to pass along. It was a horrible position to be caught in, stuck in the middle between those who wished to get something off their chest and those who wished the prior would feel they could confide in them.

She'd never experienced anything like it in her nearly twenty five years as her family had always been open and honest with each other. Her parents had always been aware of troubles she'd had in her life, financial, emotional, physical — all of it, and likewise, she'd always known of theirs as well. They trusted each other unequivocally, and trust was something the Cullen family severely lacked with one another.

And one look into Alec's steel blue eyes as he nodded, told her he knew exactly how she felt, simply because he, too, withheld the same information she did, and undoubtedly much more.

Before Alice could make it back to the waiting room, Emmett and Jasper came storming into the room with a waddling Rose trailing behind them, all three of them breathless as if they'd just run at full speed all the way from the parking lot.

"What's going on with Eddie? Have you found anything out yet?" Emmett asked, shooting worried glances between his parents and Bella, but before anyone could answer him, his brow furrowed as he pointed to her, "What gives? She okay?"

"I told you on the phone she was a wreck," Alec rolled his eyes, looking up at Emmett from his spot on the floor. "She started having trouble breathing and her nerves are shot so Alice is coming back with something to calm her down."

"You're okay though, right? Bella?" he asked, turning his gaze to her, needing her reassurance over his.

"I'm okay," she answered half truthfully, not wanting him to stress out any more than he already was.

At the very least, her hyperventilating had subsided allowing her to take in full breaths that were only slightly raspy, nothing like the crackling wheeze she'd suffered through during the first week after the fire. However, she could feel her entire body trembling from the anxiety she couldn't seem to stamp down, and she nearly moaned in relief when she saw Alice coming back toward the room, head down and walking briskly. She barely paid any attention to the new additions within the room as she squeezed past her husband in the doorway, removing the pill bottle from her scrub top pocket and tapping two out onto her palm.

"Take one now and if you feel like you really need the other one, you can take it in an hour, okay? I'll leave it in your bottle for you," she said as she handed Bella the tiny blue pill. "I have to get back to work, but if you need _anything_, I'll have my cell on me."

"Thank you, Alice," Bella smiled gratefully after swallowing the pill with the entire cup of water.

"Have you taken any of your _Ativan_ yet?" Alice asked, taking the empty cup from her as Bella shook her head.

"It's low dose, but it still might make you a little tired. If you want to go home, have Alec or someone drive you and I'll pick you up after I get off of work so you can pick up your car," Alice responded, looking to him to make sure he was okay with that. As soon as he nodded, which she'd known he would, she lowered the flow rate of Bella's oxygen to two liters per minute before leaning in to give her a quick hug.

"Send me a text when you find out what's going on with Edward, please? I won't be able to get back up here until my shift ends," she whispered before pulling away.

"I will," Bella nodded as Alice gently reaffixed her oxygen mask.

"I'll see you guys later," Alice said as she made her way out of the room, seemingly addressing everyone but looking at the floor as she slipped past her husband again. His hand slapped against the doorframe as he turned to take off after her and, unlike everyone else in the room, Bella averted her gaze as they began having a hushed, but obviously heated, argument just feet from the door.

Bella closed her eyes, relaxing herself into her chair as she attempted to drown out everything going on around her and wait for the medication to settle her nerves. She listened absently, not really paying attention as the Cullens and Alec began conversing with one another over what little they knew of the situation with Edward. She couldn't add anything to the conversation for them really, as they knew about as much as she did. He'd been fine one moment and then grabbing his leg and crying out in pain the next.

At some point, she wasn't sure exactly when, but the _Ativan_ had taken effect and she had dozed off. When she awoke, she found herself curled into Alec's side with what she thought was his chin resting atop her head. Her oxygen mask had been removed and put away, the bag sitting on the chair beside him. Her hand came up to rub the sleep from her eyes and at her stirring, Alec's torso began to shake with his nearly silent chuckle.

"Good afternoon, sleepyhead," he grinned, pulling his head back as she tilted her head up to look at him.

"What time is it? Where is everyone?" she asked groggily.

"Just before noon," he replied as she pulled away and stretched her aching limbs. "Esme, Carlisle and the boys are in with Edward. They'd only let four people in at a time so Rosalie went to go get some lunch downstairs. Speaking of which, I'm starving. You wanna head down there with me?"

"No, go ahead," she said after yawning. "I'm gonna hit the bathroom to try and splash some life back into my face."

"You want anything?" he asked as he stood and stretched, his muscles kinked and stiff from sitting in the same position for nearly two and a half hours.

"A ginger ale, if it's not too much trouble?" she asked, wishing she hadn't left her purse and wallet behind in Edward's room.

"Well break my piggy bank why don't ya?" he laughed, shaking his head. "Sure you don't want some food?"

She shook her head, telling him she didn't think she could eat with how queasy her stomach was at the moment and followed him out of the waiting room, only to part ways just outside the doorway. She'd only been at the sink for a minute or two before the bathroom door swung open and Rosalie waltzed in, sparing her a huff and eye-roll combo as she made her way toward one of the stalls.

"So I see you haven't grown tired of playing Florence Nightingale yet," Rose remarked snidely as she washed her hands at the sink beside the one Bella stood before. Bella crumpled the paper towel she'd been dabbing her face dry with and tossed it into the trash beside her before wheeling on Rosalie, suddenly exasperated with her relentless attitude.

"What is your _problem_ with me?" she demanded.

"I'll tell you what my problem is," Rosalie sneered, turning toward her after angrily ripping a wad of stiff paper towels from the dispenser. "My _problem_ is that every time we have to look at you, we have to be reminded that _you're_ the reason he almost _died_."

Bella felt her eyes prick with tears, but she forced them back as she narrowed her eyes, "This coming from the one person in his family that _hasn't _looked at me in what? Three days now?"

"I'm _pregnant_ if you can't tell," Rose shot back, gesturing at her protruding stomach as if it could somehow be missed. Bella crossed her arms over her chest, refusing to stand down for once.

"I'm sorry...I wasn't aware that pregnancy had recently become a handicap that incapacitated your ability to accompany your husband in the car and, god forbid, take a two minute ride in an elevator to see your brother in-law," Bella retorted, feeling slightly ashamed at the small amount of satisfaction she felt as Rosalie's face bloomed a furious red.

"Who the hell do you think you are? You don't know jack shit about me or any part of my family to be passing judgment on _any of us_," Rosalie fumed. "Why are you even still here? What do you think he's some knight on a white horse that's going to ride you off into the sunset? He doesn't need another one of your kind fawning over your _hero_. You aren't even close to being his type so get over it and _move on_."

"Rosalie, that's _enough_."

Neither Bella or Rosalie heard nor saw the bathroom door open, but as Esme's voice echoed within the tiled room, they both eased instantly from their angry stances. Esme approached the two women, a fire in her eyes that Bella had never seen before, but from the look on Rosalie's face, it was apparent she _had_. An apology was just about to roll off Bella's lips as Esme's gaze softened in her direction, the fire dimming from her eyes and being replaced with sincere remorse.

"Edward was asking for you," Esme said as a warm smile crept across her lips.

Bella nodded, moving to make her way toward the door. As her hand grasped the cool metal of the door handle, she paused and turned her gaze back toward where Rosalie stood with Esme scowling at her.

"I know it's not often that a victim like me tries to support the person who saved them. That's been made more than clear to me recently, but I was raised to help those who help me. I'll never be able to repay him for what he did for me, but I'll be there for him for whatever he needs and for however long he needs or wants me to be," she said determinedly. Her words faltered as a look of overwhelming pride and appreciation shone toward her from Esme and her gaze flickered back and forth between the women. "And as far as knights in shining armor on white horses go; I'm not a little girl anymore. I stopped believing in fairy tales years ago. He can tell me to leave him be at any time, but until then, you'll just have to deal with me."

With her intentions cleared, Bella exited the bathroom and made her way into the unit. Rosalie's words continued to resound in her mind, making her wonder if her accusation had been borne from past experiences Edward may have had with women, or if it had just been thrown at her with the sole purpose of pushing her away. As she turned the corner, she decided it really didn't matter because she had no hidden intentions behind her actions. What she'd told Rosalie had been the truth; she hadn't kept vigil at his bedside in some disillusioned belief that their tragedy was the start of some kind of fated romance.

The mere idea of it had never even crossed her mind

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**A/N****: Sooooo one of you lovely readers rec'd this story to Breath-of-twilight and recommended me for her Countdown to Halloween Collaboration...which was completely awesome btw. If it was you, and you're reading this lol, could you shoot me a PM? I'd like to pick your brain for one-shot ideas since you so kindly thought well enough of my writing to rec me. Thankies.**


	18. Chapter 17

_Disclaimer__: Twilight character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. All intellectual properties associated with Through the Flames_ belong to SparklingTwilight. Plagiarism is theft. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization. Thank you.

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******Tissue Warning - I've been advised by my pre-readers that this chapter requires a mini Kleenex Campaign LOL******

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The Grievance of Insecurity

"Edward," Carlisle said softly, gently shaking Edward's shoulder as he saw her entering the room. "Bella's here."

Edward's eyes opened slowly, making him look drowsier than she'd seen him in days as she took hesitant steps toward the empty side of his bed. She self consciously tucked her hair behind her ear as his half lidded eyes sluggishly raked her form.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice deep and hoarse from sleep.

"Yeah...you?" she nodded, her voice soft and timid as his questioning eyes locked on hers. What she saw in them wasn't overwhelming pain or fear as she had earlier that day, but genuine concern flickering behind the drug induced glassiness.

"He's better than good...he's flyin' high as a kite," Emmett laughed, getting elbowed in the side by his father as Carlisle mumbled a low, but stern, "Cut it out."

"Are you really okay? What happened?" Bella asked, moving closer to the bed with a slow step, her shaking hand coming to rest on his bedrail as he nodded. His head lolled to the side, his gaze landing on his father. Carlisle nodded to him just once before looking up at Bella.

"He's okay, Bella. He'll be just fine," he smiled reassuringly before explaining. "The pain he felt earlier was from the feeling returning to his legs. Because he hadn't been feeling the pain from his broken leg and the surgery on it, the pain meds they had him on weren't strong enough to dull it, but they've adjusted them to make him more comfortable."

"Wait...let him tell her the best part," Emmett said excitedly as Edward rolled his eyes and looked back at her, a smile tugging at his lips begrudgingly. He didn't want to admit it, but if he weren't so doped up, he'd probably be bouncing around just as much.

"I can move my toes," he shrugged slightly as her mouth dropped open. Before he could even see it coming, her arms were latched around his shoulders, gentle but firm as she laughed in his ear. The sound of her warm laughter caused him to lose his battle with his smile as it broke free, full and clear across his face.

"That's incredible!" she gushed, overcome with happiness for him. "Gosh, I'm so thrilled!"

"Aw c'mon! You're not even gonna show her?" Emmett wailed incredulously as he reached over to snatch the sheet back from Edward's feet. "Wiggle those little piggies, Eddie. You can do it."

"You're a dick, ya know that?" Edward scoffed, leaning forward to snatch the sheet back and scowling at Emmett for talking to him like he was a two year old. "_Little piggies...they're friggen _toes_, moron_," he grumbled under his breath in annoyance as Bella covered her mouth to hide her sniggering.

"Awww, I'm just messin' with ya, bro," Emmett teased, leaning forward and reaching over to ruffle Edward's hair.

"What is it with you lately? You're like a damn hemorrhoid I can't get rid of," Edward groaned, swatting away his brother's hand. "Always up my ass and on my nerves."

Bella was sure Edward hadn't meant to hurt Emmett with his words, but one look at his downcast eyes and slumped shoulders told her that he had. In one brief moment, Emmett had gone from teasing and jovial to withdrawn and defeated as he rose from his chair and shuffled awkwardly in place without lifting his eyes.

"I'm sorry, I just..." he paused as he picked at his fingernail before dropping his hand, further closing in on himself as he shoved his hands in his pockets and forced himself to look up at his brother. "I just wanted things to be different between us...start fresh and go back to the way things used to be before I was a fuckup."

"Em," Edward and Carlisle sighed at the same time.

"No, it's okay," he shook his head, smiling sadly. "I want to be here for you, but if you don't want me to be...it's okay."

Bella's eyes began to tear up and she had to look away when she saw the glimmering sheen of unshed tears in Emmett's eyes as he turned and made a speedy exit with both his father and brother calling after him.

"_Goddamnit_!" Edward growled, fisting his pillow behind his head and sending it careening into the wall with a forceful throw that made Bella jump.

"Edward, calm down," Carlisle urged gently, standing from his seat and looking down at his son. His heart shattered a million times over as he saw the tear trail down the left side of his face as he stared at the ceiling.

Edward couldn't stand it anymore, being trapped in a bed while people hovered around him with guilt rolling off of them in waves. He couldn't remember the last time Emmett had apologized for _anything_ prior to the accident, but since he'd woken, he'd lost count of the number of apologies his brother had uttered toward him. And while Emmett had been filling his day with apologies and forced humor, his other brother, Jasper, hadn't been able to look him dead in the eyes to save his life, much less really speak to him.

Bitterness began to creep through his veins as he thought about all the years he'd bent over backwards for everyone in his family, but it took his nearly dying for anyone to actually attempt to do something for him for once. It ate him up inside to look at them hovering next to his bedside day in and day out knowing they were only there out of guilt. Had he not had such a close brush with death, nothing would have changed. His brothers would still be acting like irresponsible fools, and his father would still be disappointed in him for one thing or another. For years they'd all relied on him, taking what they needed of him with little to no regard of how it affected him. They expected the world out of him but only ever acknowledged his existence when he failed to meet their expectations.

He roughly ran his hands over his face, forcing down his instinct to send his father chasing after his brother and turned his head away from him.

"Where's that puzzle book?" he asked Bella, just noticing her obvious discomfort with the tension still lingering in the room — thick and palpable and demanding acknowledgement of its presence as if it were its own entity.

His benign question caught her completely off guard, making her stumble to catch up with his rapid redirection as she'd just been about to politely excuse herself from the room. Her mouth opened and closed silently as her eyes darted between him, his father, and the door.

"Edward, your brother..." Carlisle started, only to be cut off angrily by Edward.

"Will survive just like I have for the last God knows how many years," he grumbled, just wanting to ignore the last few minutes and distract himself with anything that had nothing to do with family issues, or near death experiences, or pain, or mind muddling medications. He just wanted to escape everything that was causing him stress by any means possible.

"Don't be like this, son," Carlisle sighed, making Edward's head snap toward him the second he heard that damn disappointed tone. Whatever hopes he'd had of finding a few minutes of peace had vanished into thin air right along with that damn strained sigh he'd heard directed at him all too many times in his life.

"Let me ask you something," he nearly spat. "How many times over the last few years have _any of you_ given a shit about me or my health or my wants or needs? Why now? Why _now_ just because I almost died does he, and everyone else, suddenly give a damn?"

As Carlisle looked at his son, anguish constricting his chest and pricking at his eyes, Bella shuffled in severe discomfort.

"I...I should go," she stammered, her unease overwhelming her as she stepped away from the bed to make a hasty retreat. Her shoulders hunched forward, her eyes screwing shut when Edward's hand shot out and wrapped around her wrist before she'd even had a chance to let go of the bedrail.

Slowly she turned, imploring him with her watery eyes as a whispered plea fell from her lips, "_Please_."

His eyes stayed locked with hers for a series of moments, darting back and forth while his thumb caressed his silent apology across her wrist. When he let go, his head fell back against his pillow as he watched her escape the room and the tension he, too, wished he could get away from.

"I can't do this anymore," Edward murmured after a lengthy silence in which he'd been trapped in his swirling disjointed thoughts and his father in his heartache. His head turned to the side, his eyes settling on Carlisle's pained expression. "I can't keep pretending nothing's wrong with this family, with my life...with _everything_."

Carlisle's tear filled eyes flickered between his son's, the steeled resolve behind them taking his breath away. "We may not be perfect, Edward...but we do love you..."

"Do you? Do any of you, _really_?" Edward asked dubiously. "I stopped _living_ years ago, and no one cared. The only time I even exist in this family is when someone needs something or I disappoint you somehow."

As Carlisle's eyes closed, the tears he'd been keeping at bay streamed down his aged and rough with three day old stubble face. His own son, the strongest and most honorable young man he'd ever known, had been crumbling right before his very eyes for years — and he'd been oblivious to it; to his pain, his insecurities...to _him_.

"You've _never_ disappointed me," Carlisle refuted passionately as his eyes opened. "Not _once_ in your entire life have you ever done _anything_ for me to be disappointed of, son. I've never been anything but proud of you."

At his words, Edward laughed outright; loud, incredulous laughter without even a hint of amusement. As his menacing laughter subsided, anger coursed through him, making him grit his teeth as hot tears filled his eyes and he angrily ripped the sheet away from his body.

"Tell me you're _proud_ now. Look at me, at what I've done, then tell me you're _proud_. Look me in the face and tell me you're not disappointed that I might never walk again, because I _know_ you are. _Look at me_," Edward demanded furiously when Carlisle's agonized eyes failed to leave his own. "_I _did this. There's _nothing_ here to be proud of."

Edward's anger only surged higher with Carlisle's unwillingness to lay his eyes upon his son's mangled body. But Carlisle didn't need to look any further than the spot Bella had been standing in just minutes before to know that there was nothing to _not_ be proud of him for.

"I'm proud of you, Edward," Carlisle told him with every ounce of sincerity he possessed as he looked his son straight in the eyes and moved to stand right beside his bedrail. "How could I not be?"

Edward shook his head at the ceiling, clenching his jaw shut as rivulets of hot, salty tears streamed down his temples and into his hair. His mind was chaotic, jumping from one thought to the next as his emotions went haywire within him. Anger, sadness, overwhelming helplessness, desperation, and depression swirled within him as thoughts that had been plaguing him for days ravaged his mind.

"Did you know that the night I was brought in here...it was my second trip through the ER in just as many days?" Edward asked absently, not really speaking to his father, but more just airing his thoughts aloud. "I got hurt tackling Emmett at a call earlier in the shift, but kept working even when I knew I shouldn't have."

Edward's head slowly turned to the side, his gaze falling upon his father, "I kept working because I didn't want to _disappoint _you for the second time in one day. You got upset with me for requesting something I needed...but it's never about what _I _need, is it? As long as your two sons are kept out of harm's way and your shifts are covered, right?"

That entire shift had been fresh in Carlisle's mind ever since the moment he watched Edward disappear into that burning building. The promise of an ice fishing trip and sharing a smile with his son at the very beginning of Edward's shift had played over and over again in his mind for days on end because he feared it would have been his last memory of his son ever smiling again. But that memory had been tainted. It had been tainted each time he recalled that day and he relived the distressed phone call his son had made to him just an hour after he'd departed the station. The phone call in which his son had hung up on him and immediately left the station afterward.

That call had been the beginning of the downward spiral into Carlisle's worst nightmare. Edward had refused his calls for the rest of the morning, and by early afternoon, Carlisle, exhausted from worry and lack of sleep, had thought it best to just give him a little time and space to simmer down until he was ready to talk again. He'd never heard anything about him getting hurt. He'd never heard anything about Emmett almost getting hurt, or even the fight that had broken out in the station where Edward had gotten injured even worse trying to break it up.

He'd never heard any of it until _after_ the moment he'd feared he'd seen his oldest son for the last time — being wheeled off on a gurney, barely alive, and rushed off to the nearest hospital.

"I wasn't upset with you..."

"_Right_," Edward scoffed at his father's denial. "You were overcome with _joy_ that I requested to be put on a different shift."

"Dammit, Edward! I _wasn't_ upset with you!" Carlisle cried out, throwing his hands in the air. "Yes, I was upset, but not with you...never with _you_." His head shook as his mind reeled, still replaying that horrid day over and over again as if, somehow, by reliving it, he'd be able to change it. "I was pissed off at and disappointed in _your brothers_, not you. You've always been the perfect kid...you don't know how many times I've wished Jasper and Emmett could be more like you. Christ, son...the man you've grown into is the only thing I've ever done _right_ as a parent. Can't you see that? See why I'd _never_ have a reason to be disappointed in you?"

Carlisle's eyes came back into focus, drifting down toward his son as his weak voice caught in his throat. "You've never brought anything but joy to your mother's and my lives, Edward. I don't know what I would have done if we'd lost you...I don't think I would have survived it..."

Edward stared as his father for a long minute, unsure of what to make of his declarations. Why would he have wanted Emmett and Jasper to be more like him, unhappy and barely living as he'd been? And was it the Chief or his father that didn't know what he would have done if he'd lost his life? Because the Chief and his father were, and had always been, two drastically different people. And still, he couldn't help but question whether his survival had been a blessing or a curse.

"It might have been better if you had."

Edward's words had been barely audible — just a whisper upon a pained breath — but Carlisle had heard them as clear as though he'd shouted them from a rooftop, and they caused his watery eyes to spill over, yet again.

"I'm sorry, son," he cried, grasping a firm hold of Edward's hand. "I'd give _anything_ to trade places with you. I'd give my life to be able to go back to that night and have it be me that went into the building instead of you. I hate that you're in pain. I hate that you're afraid you'll never walk again. I hate that I can't take any of that away from you, because if there was a way, I'd do it in a heartbeat."

"I would, too."

On the verge of an erupting sob, the heartbroken hushed voice emanating from the doorway nearly went unheard by Edward. It was all too much for him to handle; seeing his father cry, hearing his sorrowful apologies and heartfelt praise — and then to hear Jasper, his brother who'd barely spoken a handful of words to him since he'd awoken, agree with his father. The trembling sob that he'd been fighting down forced its way through his clenched teeth as his eyes streamed burning tears down his face, each tear timed with one of his brother's footsteps as he neared the bed. A strangled groaning and tearful sigh whooshed its way from Edward's lungs as his hand gripped his father's in a fierce clench — more to keep a hold of himself and his chaotic emotions than to absorb any level of comfort his hand provided.

"I've been a poor excuse for a brother recently..." Jasper paused, looking down at his hand on the bedrail as he shook his head at himself. "More than recently. I think I've always been a horrible brother to you, and I'm sorry for that...but you need to know that I..."

Jasper had thought he'd finally known what to say to his brother after days of battling his inability to find the right words, but as he stood there beside him, he once again began to feel the insecurity and strain of believing his words were worthless. Worthless because, for all he'd ever shown his brother with his actions, his words would seem empty and insincere regardless of how honest they were. He'd never given Edward a reason to believe in him, and now that he needed him to, he doubted it was possible any longer.

"You just make it so _hard_, ya know? It's _impossible_ to live up to Mom and Dad's expectations, or even the guys at the station, because you set the bar so damn high without even trying..."

It hadn't been his intention when he'd come to Edward's room, but his words had come out angrily, betraying the lifelong bitterness he'd harbored toward his older brother.

"Jasper, _damnit_. Just _once _in your life can't you..."

"_I'm not done_," he barked at his father for interrupting, narrowing his eyes at him before returning his gaze to his brother. "What I'm trying to say is that I wish I could be more like you, but I can't. I'm not, and will never be, even half the man you are. That night...I took one look at that blaze and knew I'd never take the chance in entering it. I'd never take the chance because no one in there was important enough for me to risk my own life that way...until _you_ fell through that floor. Once that happened...it didn't matter anymore what happened to me, or anyone else for all I cared. The only thing that mattered was trying to get you the hell out of there. I've never been so goddamn terrified in my entire life...not for myself and never for anyone else. And, if I learned anything that night, it's that I'm not cut out for this."

Jasper worriedly looked up from his hands to meet his brother's eyes, wary of the degree of disappointment he'd see in them. Whatever disapproval he'd expected to see, he could find none. Nothing but acceptance in Edward's watery gaze. Acceptance and...pride?

However, his father was another story entirely.

"What do you mean 'You're not cut out for this'?" he asked incredulously. Carlisle couldn't understand it because Jasper had been fighting fires for six years, just one year longer than Emmett since he'd chosen not to attend the academy right after high school as both Edward and Emmett had.

"I mean that I can't do it anymore. I put in my resignation last week with Acting Chief Stillwell and cleared out my locker..."

"You _what_?" Carlisle growled, incensed at his son going behind his back.

"Back down, Chief," Edward cut in as Jasper began to bristle. He couldn't have been more proud of his brother for doing what was right for him for once. Granted he wasn't all that thrilled with the way Jasper had sneakily gone about it, but he was proud of him nonetheless. Edward had long since known firefighting hadn't been Jasper's desired career line, but more of a family tradition he'd felt obligated to uphold.

"I quit. Don't you get it? I can't ever go into another blaze after that night...not after what we went through to get him out and almost losing him. Every time I close my eyes I see my brother falling to his death, because _that's_ what it looked like down there, Dad..."

Jasper's words trailed off as he choked up, flashes of that night and being lowered down into the pitch black basement attacking his mind. It had taken him what felt like an eternity to unbury Edward from the debris that had fallen over him, and when he had and he'd seen his brother's mangled and lifeless form...

"I thought he was dead," Jasper breathed, shaking the images away from his mind as he opened his eyes. He took one look at Edward and turned his head, clenching his teeth as he looked at his father and a tear rolled down the side of his face. "I _can't_ do it again. I can't see him, or you, or Emmett that way _ever again_...I just..._can't_."

In that moment, even through his medicinal haze, mental and emotional turmoil, Edward couldn't deny that, on some level at least, his brother truly did care for him. Not only for him, but for the rest of their family as well. That much was evident with how the tragic night that had nearly claimed his life continued to haunt Jasper so obviously. Jasper's entire frame had began visibly shaking the moment his eyes had closed, and Edward had known instantly where his mind had taken him. He'd been stuck in that mental Hell more times than he could care to count when they'd been too late to save someone — something he'd saved both of his brothers from ever having to witness firsthand by ordering them to perform duties away from the horrific images that would haunt him for months on end. They'd never been oblivious to the losses of life, as it would have been impossible to shield them from it entirely, but they'd never had to see death unsheathed the way he and everyone else had.

Seeing Jasper's unveiled anguish for the first time since the first few days after the incident, Carlisle's anger melted away instantly, leaving only understanding in its place. With a nod he wrapped his free arm around Jasper's shoulders and pulled him into his chest, letting his son grip him and shed the tears he'd needed to for weeks.

"It's okay. I get it...it's okay," he repeated reassuringly, gripping the back of Jasper's neck as he sighed and closed his eyes. Giving Edward's hand a gentle squeeze, he uttered the only words of hope that were capable of keeping him upright in that moment...

"We'll get through this. All of this..._together_."

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**A/N****: Come play on the forum thread! I don't bite...I swear! ^_^ Just copy, paste, and replace all 3 (dot)s with periods. C ya'll over there!**

**www(dot)twilighted(dot)net/forum/viewtopic(dot)php?f=44&t=9613&st=0&sk=t&sd=a&sid=&start=550**


	19. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: Twilight character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. All intellectual properties associated with _Through the Flames_ belong to SparklingTwilight. Plagiarism is theft. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization. Thank you.

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A Weary Reunion

Thursday morning, Edward awoke at just after five am when the nurse came in to check his vitals and draw some blood. It wasn't the most pleasant way to wake, but he could clearly remember worse than just a tiny prick in the flesh of his arm and a thermometer in his mouth while a machine took his blood pressure. As mild of an awakening as it was, when compared to others he could remember, it still left him alert enough to be unable to fall back asleep.

It had been four days since his fight with Emmett and his father. Four days since Jasper had broken down and unknowingly revealed his need for counseling to battle the post traumatic stress syndrome he was suffering from. Four days since Emmett had walked through his door and stolen his TV remote; even though he'd sent repeated messages away with his parents, Jasper, Peanut, Alec, and even Bella, telling him he was sorry and asking him to come back.

He hadn't yet, though, and his brother's continued absence was weighing heavily upon Edward's heart.

In four days his health had improved enough to be taken off the constant monitoring, his central line had been removed from his chest just below his right clavicle, and he'd been advanced to solid foods — which wasn't saying much because it still all tasted horrible. His health was improving quickly, but his mental and emotional state were dwindling at the same rate.

His emotions were all over the place on a daily, and seemingly sometimes hourly, basis. He'd shed more tears of anger and anguish in the last few days than he could ever remember having shed in his entire life, most of which had, thankfully, been released in private. It was in the hours of solitude that the weight of his depression fully pressed down on him until he felt he couldn't breathe under the force of it; hours like the ones between being woken up at five am and whatever hour someone strolled in for a visit with him.

As he sat in his bed, the room silent around him with the lights still turned off, leaving him in the darkness of the early morning, he looked to the spot where Bella and his mother had spent so many uncomfortably restless nights — and missed their slumbering presence. Had either of them been there, he could still have been left to his thoughts as they slept, but could have escaped feeling so damn _lonely_. And to think, just three days earlier he'd asked them to stop spending the night because he couldn't stand seeing them suffer so unnecessarily in those chairs turned makeshift bed.

As selfish as he thought it to be, he wished for one of them to be there to fend off at least a fraction of the crushing weight of his emotions that he lacked the energy to bear that morning. They'd been creeping upon him as he'd fallen asleep the night before, but when he'd awoken, it had felt as if he'd slept under a concrete blanket of debilitating depression all night long.

He roughly rubbed the tears away from his eyes with the heels of his palms just as the faint blue of the morning sky began to dimly illuminate his room. He was so tired; not just physically, but mentally and emotionally as well. Warring with himself between his anger at his family and trying to accept their desire to support him now, on top of the pain and fear of permanent disability he suffered from constantly, left him feeling endlessly drained of any energy whatsoever.

Just as he dropped his hands from his eyes, he became aware of the hulking, shadowed form encompassing the doorway with knuckles raised and just moments away from tapping on the metal paneling.

"Knock, knock," Emmett's voice resounded quietly as he rapped softly, pausing with only a momentary awkward shuffle before moving into the room.

The smile that graced Edward's face was instantaneous, his spirits lifted tremendously with just the sound of his brother's voice. "Hey...how'd you get Barbara the Barbarian to let you in?"

"I uh..."

"I heard that!" the nurse's shrill voice cut through the room just a moment before she popped her head into the doorway. "Ten minutes, I'm counting. You can come back during normal visiting hours."

Emmett nodded at her just as she flicked the room's lights on, making him squint against the harsh fluorescent brightness, "I know...and thank you, again."

Edward waited until he saw her walk away through the small observation window and turned to his brother with a teasing smile that fell into a concerned frown instantly. It looked like Emmett hadn't slept in days. His face was pale - nearly ashen, and dark, bruise-like bags drooped beneath his bloodshot eyes. "You look like shit. What happened?"

Emmett looked around the room, avoiding his brother's worried gaze as he shrugged and took a seat in the chair next to the bed, "Just haven't been able to sleep."

"Bullshit," Edward countered bluntly. "You can sleep like the dead through a hailstorm of atomic bombs. What's wrong?"

Emmett groaned, slumping down in his chair as he rubbed his hands roughly over his face. When he pulled his hands away, he stared at the wall across the room from him and shook his head. "Everything's wrong. I don't know what to do anymore, or how to make anything right again. Not with you, not with Rosie, or even Jas and Alice."

He shook his head once more, pulling his distant focus back in and looking at Edward.

"I don't know how you dealt with all of this shit for so long...we're all so fucked up it's ridiculous," he confessed. "I don't think I ever realized how much you held this family together until...that night...and every night since. I keep trying to fix everything for everyone, but I just can't...not the way you always could."

"Emmett," Edward uttered sadly as he lifted himself up into a higher sitting position.

"No...just let me talk? For a minute?" Emmett asked anxiously, to which Edward nodded and gave him his full attention.

"I'm sorry, you know...for everything. I wish it hadn't taken something like this to make me wake up and see things straight, but it did. I haven't been here because I haven't been able to face you. It just hurt too much knowing that by the time I finally find it in me to be the brother to you that you've always been to me, it was too late for me to undo the damage I've done to you...to us."

Edward wanted to interject, to correct him, but he held himself back, knowing by the look on his face that Emmett wasn't yet finished.

"Dad told me what you said...about no one giving a shit about you until you almost died," he murmured, feeling ashamed that his past actions had helped form that belief. He shook his head, keeping his eyes locked on Edward's, "It's not true, Edward. It couldn't be further from the truth."

Emmett's gaze fell down to his hands as he leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. In the past few days, ever since their father had told him of Edward's words, he'd done more inner reflection than he'd ever done collectively in his entire life. And after long nights of staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep as he mentally journeyed through years upon years of the family's interactions with his eldest brother, he'd come to one undeniable conclusion.

Edward felt that no one cared about him because no one ever _showed_ him they cared about him.

Not Emmett himself, or Rosalie, or Jasper, or even their parents really. They _all_, himself included, had spent years expecting the world out of him, but had never truly shown him even the slightest bit of gratitude or appreciation. They just expected and accepted when Edward delivered on whatever it was they needed at the only minimal exception to the rule he could find after days of reflection was Alice, and the realization of how they'd all treated him for so long made Emmett feel physically ill.

"Ever since Dad told me what you said...I haven't been able to sleep," he said quietly, still focusing on his clasped hands between his legs. "At first I was pissed that you'd say something like that, to Dad especially because he's always been closer to you than Jasper or me, but then..." he paused as he raised his eyes to Edward, "but then I started thinking that there had to be a _reason_ you'd say it because you _never_ say shit you don't mean."

Emmett's eyes began to tear as he looked at his brother sorrowfully, ashamed of the way he and everyone else had treated him for so long. If he could turn back the hands of time, he'd do everything in his power to make sure that Edward never had a reason to question just how very much he meant to their family. Edward was, and always had been, the heart and soul of the Cullen family, and for him to not be able to see that, or feel that — it was heart wrenching.

"I didn't...I never realized how much we all took advantage of you, and I'm sorry for that. It's our fault that you feel the way you do. I can see that now and, as much as I hate it...I get it..."

"Your ten minutes are up," Edward's nurse interrupted from the doorway. "You can come back after eight."

Emmett's face turned in her direction, his eyes beseeching, "Just five more minutes? Please?"

She pursed her lips as she looked him over, taking in his exhausted appearance and eyes brimming with heart breaking emotion. With a sigh she looked between the two men and nodded, "Take your time. I'll go get you an overnight visitor's form, but you'll have to run down to security to get the pass yourself. I can't leave the unit and all after hours visitors have to be documented, deal?"

"Yeah," Emmett smiled for the first time in days. "Thank you, Barbara."

"Don't mention it," she smiled softly before throwing a teasing smirk at Edward, "I'm not as _barbaric_ as some seem to think I am."

"Hey now," Edward sniggered, his tone defensive, yet playful. "I feel like a human pin cushion. As far as I'm concerned, all of you needle wielding witches are barbarians."

Barbara tried not to laugh, but found herself unable to. In all the years that she'd been a nurse, she'd found it rare to find someone in such a state with a sense of humor. Still laughing softly, she shook her head and winked at the men, "I'll be back in a few with that form."

As soon as she was out of hearing range, Edward turned his gaze toward Emmett, the signature Cullen grin gracing his face, "What'd you charm the pants right off of her?"

"Almost...if it woulda gotten me in I might've done it, too," Emmett chuckled as he dug into his eyes with his fists to clear his unshed tears. "I just...I don't know. It all kinda just hit me last night and I couldn't sleep knowing you feel the way you do. I had to come because I couldn't stand the thought of you sitting here alone and thinking that no one cares, because we do."

"Emmett," Edward sighed, shaking his head slightly, "I was just having a shit day. I shouldn't have been such a dick, but all this," he said as he waved his hands around in lackadaisical circles, gesturing to both himself and his surroundings, "isn't easy to deal with."

"I know it's not. It wasn't easy for us either; waiting for weeks without knowing whether or not you'd ever wake up, or what condition you'd be in _if_ you woke up," Emmett responded dismally. "Mom had breakdown the day you started talking and you seemed to be okay. If it wasn't for Dad and Jasper being on either side of her, she would have hit the ground. I still don't know how she held all that shit in until we were outside."

Silence descended upon the two men, each lost to their own thoughts. As much as Emmett wished he didn't, he could recall nearly every harrowing moment of those endless weeks. It had been by far the most horrific experience he'd ever endured, and he highly doubted the memory of it would ever fade. Those agonizing days of constant anxious worry and fear had left permanent invisible scars deep within him — scars that no matter how much time could ever pass, would never heal.

As for Edward, just thinking about what it must have been like for them was draining. He'd been awake and in varying stages of awareness for a little over a week, and in just that short time, he'd been driven to the brink of insanity by his fears of the unknown.

Would he or wouldn't he ever walk again? Would he or wouldn't he ever return to active duty? Would he or wouldn't he ever be able to have the family he'd longed and hoped for, for so long if it came to be that he wouldn't ever walk again?

So many questions with absolutely no definitive answers. No "_Yes you will_" or "_No you won't_" — just a bunch of "_Maybes_" and "_We hope so-s_".

"Did you mean what you said...when you told Dad it might have been better if you'd died?"

Emmett's softly spoken question was saturated with heartache and both his tone and question broadsided Edward. For a moment, he truly contemplated not answering it at all, especially when he was afforded the distraction of his nurse, Barbara, returning with Emmett's form. Unfortunately, the moment she left the room, Emmett's expectant gaze was locked on him.

"No...Yes..._fuck_, I don't know," Edward groaned, laying back against the inclined bed. Just another question he really didn't have an answer for. He'd thought through that question repeatedly over the course of the week; most often when he was either alone or alone enough because the only other person in the room with him was asleep, but even after days of contemplation, he still couldn't answer it definitively one way or the other. "Sometimes I do, and sometimes I don't."

Edward stared at the ceiling, not really seeing it, as Emmett's mind reeled beside him. He couldn't understand why Edward would _ever_ think it would have been better if he hadn't survived because even if he never walked again — even if he had to use a wheelchair the rest of his life, and buy a one level house and make it handicap accessible — he'd still be _alive._ Emmett had just been about to make that very statement to him when Edward suddenly began laughing to himself as he shook his head.

"You know what the bitch of it is? Bella asked me if I regretted saving her because of what happened to me, and I don't, not at all, because if I hadn't done what I did, she would have died. Anyone in her position would have died, and it didn't matter that night nor does it matter now who it had been, my actions would have been the same...as would be the consequences of them. I won't ever regret risking my life to save someone else, but if this...if being stuck like _this_ is what the rest of my life will be like...I might regret surviving."

"You can't think like that, bro. I know it's hard, I can't even imagine what you're going through, but you gotta try to stay positive," Emmett urged, worried by his brother's melancholic tone. If he didn't believe he'd ever get better, he wouldn't.

The corner of one side of Edward's lips turned up slightly as he turned his head to look at his brother, "Easier said than done, Em...way easier said than done."

Emmett just nodded, not knowing what else to say to him that would encourage him to think differently. He'd never been all that good at encouraging anyone to do anything — at least not anything that wasn't some form of juvenile behavior. It had always been Edward that had provided him and Jasper with encouragement and motivation, never the other way around, and he was at a loss of how to turn those tables. Unsure, but determined to figure it out because he wanted Edward to recover. He wanted Edward to be happy; happier in the future than he had been for the past too many years.

"I should probably head down to security before Barbara changes her mind...unless you'd rather I left. I know it's been kinda...crowded around here since you woke up," Emmett stammered uncertainly. He wanted to stay, even if it was just to pass out in the chair he was sitting in if Edward fell back asleep, but he didn't want to be a nuisance.

"Em," Edward chuckled as Emmett began fidgeting nervously, "It's cool if ya stay, just keep your hands off my remote."

It only took Emmett a little more than ten minutes to trek down to security and back, and only another fifteen after he returned for him to succumb to the exhaustion he'd been suffering from for days. After the third time his head had bobbed violently enough to return him to consciousness, Edward tossed one of his spare pillows at him, catching him right in the face and laughed as he told him to get some shuteye. Emmett's presence alone was enough to ward off the demons of depression that had been haunting him in the silent solitude that had pervaded his room earlier that morning.

As Emmett snored away at Edward's bedside, slumped down in the chair with his feet crossed and resting atop the edge of the bed, Edward tried to get comfortable. His left leg was throbbing fiercely; a constant, relentless ache that he refused to alert his care providers to because he couldn't stand the thick mental fog the additional drugs put him in. It seemed no matter which way he shifted, though the movements were minimal at best, he couldn't find relief from his discomfort. His leg hurt, his side where his chest tube entered his lung hurt, his stomach and lower back hurt where the stitches were almost healed, the few areas remaining where he'd been badly burnt hurt — _everything_ just _hurt_. It was maddening.

After a half an hour of adjusting and readjusting his position, he gave up. It was useless. Whether the back of the bed was up or down, he was tilted to one side or the other, his legs were elevated or not — it didn't matter. He was just uncomfortable no matter what he did, so with a discontented groan, he threw in the towel and resigned himself to staring at the ceiling and letting his mind drift away from the pain.

At some point, he wasn't sure when, he'd fallen asleep — most likely having been lulled back to sleep by Emmett's rhythmic snoring. When he awoke, his room was bright, filled with sunshine that momentarily blinded him. Over the low volume of his TV, he could hear the hushed voices of people conversing around him.

"Did they say what time they're moving him?"

"No, just that they would be bringing him down to radiology for x-rays of his chest, leg, and back, and they'd bring him to his new room afterward."

His ears strained to hear the near whispers, not wanting to alert them to his being awake.

"Was Emmett here when you got here? He left the house at four thirty this morning but wouldn't say where he was going."

"Yeah, I brought him to my parents' place to get some rest. He was passed out and falling out of the chair when I got here. I made my mom promise to let him sleep as long as he needed to and feed him before bringing him back here again."

"Thanks, Bella. I hope your mother doesn't feel inconvenienced."

"Nah, it's no big deal. She was saying this morning she was planning on stopping by here when my dad got off work anyway."

The silence that followed stretched onward and Edward grew tired of feigning sleep. He hadn't wanted to interrupt their conversation, but at the same time, he was curious as to what people talked about when he wasn't awake. _'To be a fly on a wall' _was his last thought before raising his hands to rub the sleep from his eyes and alert them to his waking.

"Hey sleepyhead, how are you feeling?" Bella's soft voice addressed him. He tried not to smile, grumpy as he was when he first awoke, but the smile in her voice was infectious. The sides of his lips curled up faintly as he lowered his hands and opened his eyes, seeing Bella and Jasper standing beside his bed.

"What time is it?" he asked, his voice hoarse from sleep.

"Just after ten. Did you sleep okay?" Bella responded, reaching out with her fingertip to brush away an eyelash that rested upon his cheek. His eyes bored into her own as her soft skin grazed his face and her face bloomed bright red as she quickly withdrew her hand with a softly whispered, "Sorry, eyelash." It was as if she'd acted upon only instinct without a single moment of forethought to her actions, and she grew intensely embarrassed as his eyes continued to burn into her.

Jasper watched the interaction with rapt attention, a smirk spreading across his lips. He'd been a fraction of a second away from cracking a joke at their expense before Edward's eyes flashed to his in warning. Bella, uncomfortable from her momentary foray into forwardness, cleared her throat and turned away from the bed. She stood at the sink counter in his room, willing her face to cool as she poured a cup of ice water from the jug she'd retrieved upon her return to the hospital after settling Emmett into her parents' family room couch.

Jasper continued to watch her, his amusement growing by the second as she turned and asked Edward if he wanted to brush his teeth. Upon his nod, she filled another cup with water from the tap and prepared his toothbrush, returning to his bedside with not only his toothbrush and water to rinse with, but an empty cup to spit into as well. As Jasper watched Bella fuss over his brother, raising the back of his bed for him and adjusting his pillows so he was in a comfortable position to brush his teeth, he had to begin wondering if Edward knew just how tightly he had her wrapped around his fingers.

"So did you sleep okay?" she asked again as she took the used toothbrush from him and handed him both cups. He shrugged and nodded. He'd definitely had worse nights, or mornings rather, of sleep.

"They're going to be bringing you down to radiology soon and then they're going to move you to your new room. I packed up all your photos and things when they told me, I hope that's okay with you?" Bella asked nervously. Edward hadn't even noticed everything missing from his room until she'd mentioned it.

"It's fine. Where are they moving me to anyway?" he asked curiously.

"Just down the hall. Alice pulled some strings and scored you a private room. She and your mom are down there now fixing it up for you to make you more comfortable. They brought your comforter and pillows from home and a few other things I think," Bella responded as she cleaned off his toothbrush and returned with his fresh cup of ice water and a brown paper bag. "Your, um...your breakfast got kind of cold and gross, so I went down and got you a bagel but I didn't know what you'd like on it, so I brought back a little of everything. There's some cream cheese, butter, and two different kinds of jelly in the bag with it."

Edward stared at the bag resting between his hands on the movable table she'd pushed in front of him, not knowing what to say. Anyone else would have just left his unappealing meal tray sitting there, not thinking to get him something more edible. He wasn't accustomed to people treating him with such thoughtfulness, and it made him slightly uncomfortable. Uncomfortable, but grateful nonetheless.

"Thank you," he murmured, raising his eyes to meet hers as she reached over to remove the contents from the bag. He watched her set everything out in front of him, floored that she'd even thought to toast the bagel beforehand.

"It's gotten cold, I'm afraid, but it's probably still better than what was sitting here when I got here," she grimaced slightly.

"It's fine, really. Thank you, again," Edward smiled, ripping into the single serving container of cream cheese.

A moan rumbled his chest as he bit into his cream cheese and grape jelly bagel, it having been the best thing he'd tasted since waking up. As his eyes opened and spotted her smiling happily at seeing him actually enjoy what he was eating for once, he held half of the ripped bagel toward her. "Want some?"

"I'll take half, I'm starving," Jasper chimed in, jumping up from his chair.

"I didn't ask you," Edward rolled his eyes as Bella laughed. "You want a bagel, go walk your ass down to the cafeteria and get one." He held it out toward her again, waving it slightly in front of her. "Ya want?"

"No, I'm good, thanks," she snickered as Jasper plopped back in his chair with a humph.

The rest of the morning passed by quickly, much to Edward's surprise. His mother and Alice joined them shortly after he'd finished his breakfast and as others passed the time with conversation, Bella and Edward worked together on the daily newspaper's crossword puzzle.

"Edward, I'm telling you it's not _racket_. The first and third letters are 'R' and 'C', but the 'T' doesn't fit!" Bella laughed, swatting his grabbing hand with the folded up paper when he tried to snatch it from her.

"Then the other word is wrong, because I'm telling you it's racket!" he laughed back, still trying to swipe the paper from her, neither of them realizing the pairs of eyes solely focused on their interaction with each other.

"They'd be so good together," Esme whispered, a soft smile spread across her lips. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen her son laugh so easily, even before the incident. It warmed her heart to see the joy Bella brought him with such ease. If only she could get the two of them to see in each other what she could so readily see while looking at them, maybe her son would finally have the happiness and family he'd been searching for, for so long.

"I see it too, Esme," Alice sighed, her eyes dancing happily between the laughing pair, "I see it too."

* * *

**A/N: I just want to thank you all for your continued support of this story. You guys have been amazing so far ^_^ C yas next week! Much love ~Jersey**


	20. Chapter 19

_Disclaimer__: Twilight character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. All intellectual properties associated with Through the Flames_ belong to SparklingTwilight. Plagiarism is theft. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization. Thank you.

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The Merging of Lives

On a Sunday morning, Bella awoke to her cell phone ringing on her nightstand. She groaned as she rolled over to grab it, wondering who had the audacity to wake her at such an early hour on the Lord's day of rest. When her eyes blearily read the time on her phone, she gasped and shot up in bed. It was already after eleven. She couldn't even begin to imagine how she'd slept through the ruckus of her mother making her ritual Sunday morning spread in the kitchen. Flipping the phone open quickly, she answered.

"...'Lo?" she croaked, and then paused to cough and clear her throat. "Sorry, Hello?"

"Hey Bella, it's Alice. Did I wake you?"

"No...well, yes, but I should have been up hours ago," Bella chuckled as she stretched. "What's up?"

"Oh nothing, I was just getting ready to head to the mall and I wanted to know if you'd like to join me. I know you said something the other day about having to do some major clothes shopping and I figured since I was heading there, maybe you'd like some company?"

"Actually," Bella paused as she scratched her head and swung her legs over the side of the bed. "I was supposed to meet up with two of my friends around one. I'm sure they wouldn't mind extra company though, if that's okay with you."

Bella had been looking forward to her lunch date with Tanya and Irina for over a week, but she felt it would be rude to decline Alice's invitation. Plus, she genuinely enjoyed Alice's company, and she was sure that Tanya and Irina would as well, so she didn't see the harm in inviting her along. After all, Tanya's motto had always been '_the more the merrier_'.

"That'd be great!" Alice chirped excitedly. "I don't really have many friends outside of work, so it'd be nice to meet some new people. Plus, if you keep company with them, they're probably great. Do you want to meet there...or?"

"Just come here, Alice. It'll take me a bit to get up and going," Bella smiled. Renee would be more than happy to entertain her while Bella showered and got ready to leave.

"Okay. I'll see you soon."

Bella stood and stretched after ending the call and shuffled to her bedroom door, petting Bullwinkle's head as she passed by him in the rocker. She still couldn't help but smile each time she saw it sitting in the chair. Stepping out into the hall and leaning against the railing, she yelled down the stairs.

"Mom! Alice is coming over, but I'm getting in the shower! Just let her in when she gets here!"

"Okay, sweetie. I cleared breakfast already, are you hungry?" Renee called back, her voice getting louder as she approached the stairwell.

"No, I'm good. I'll be having lunch with the girls in a little bit anyway," Bella shook her head, pulling her hair tie out of her hair and running her fingers through it. "Where's Dad?"

"He's over at Edward's house with Carlisle. They're mowing the lawn and taking care of some things over there," Renee responded. "He should be home this afternoon sometime."

"That was nice of him to help them," Bella smiled, grateful for her father's generosity.

After a few more words with her mother, Bella headed back into her room to gather some clean clothes. With having not replaced her wardrobe as of yet, she'd become familiar with the sight of her nearly empty closet and the lack of clothing choices it provided. However, after having not done laundry for a few days, slim pickings was a severe understatement.

Not wanting to wear sweatpants out to lunch, she pursed her lips and grabbed the single sundress hanging in the closet. It wasn't even a sundress — it was actually a bathing suit cover up that she'd stored in her closet for visits when her mother would sporadically want to go to the community pool, but she told herself no one would know the difference. It looked like a dress and fit like a dress, so by all means, it _was_ a dress.

She showered and shaved quickly, a skill she'd mastered after many mornings of hitting the snooze button a few too many times, and hopped out to dry off and dress. As she stood at the bathroom sink brushing her teeth, she could hear Alice and her mother talking downstairs. Not wanting to keep her waiting for long, she brushed her hair out and threw on just a little eye liner and mascara before exiting the bathroom.

"What are you two so chatty about? I could hear you all the way upstairs," Bella laughed as she turned the corner into the kitchen.

"That dress is _adorable_," Alice gushed, standing from her chair and looking down at her tank top and capri pants. "I feel underdressed."

"Don't...it's all I had left that was clean," Bella chuckled as she reached for a glass in the cabinet. Seeing that her mother had already gotten Alice a drink, she filled her own glass and joined them at the table. "Hey, Mom? Can I borrow your white flip flops?"

"Sure, I'll go get them for you," Renee smiled, lifting herself from her chair and heading toward the stairs.

"So, I was just telling your mom about the fundraiser the station's having for Edward next weekend," Alice said casually as Bella took a few sips of her juice. "Some of the wives, girlfriends and such came together with the idea of running a bake and crafts sale next Saturday. Would you want to join us?"

"I'd love to...but I can't bake. I can _cook_, but baking is a mystery to me," Bella snickered.

"Yeah, your mom was telling me that," Alice smiled. "She had some ideas for crafts that she wanted to make and sell, but if you don't want to do that, you can just give us a hand with bagging goodies and running the stand."

"Count me in. I'll do what I can, just don't let me near the oven," Bella agreed, joking but partially serious as well.

Less than an hour later, Bella and Alice pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant where she'd planned on meeting Tanya and Irina. She grumbled as she grabbed her emergency air pack out of the backseat, no longer seeing the need to tote it _everywhere_ she went. She hadn't used it in well over a week — not since the morning Edward had regained feeling in his legs — and it had just become a burden to carry. She still continued to do so, however, fearing not only the possibility of unexpectedly needing it, but not wanting to be lectured again over leaving it behind. Her mother had scolded her something fierce the day she left it at home, even though she was just running to the bank ten minutes down the road.

"Bella!" Tanya's voice squealed just a moment before she was nearly tackled to the ground. Tanya's small frame practically wrapped around her in a vice-like embrace. She laughed, even though it was hard to breathe, as she hugged her back.

When she was released from Tanya's exuberant embrace, she quickly hugged Irina and made introductions. Even though she hadn't doubted for a minute that her friends would get along fabulously with Alice, it made her smile to see them linking arms with Alice and leading her toward the restaurant's entrance.

Halfway through their meal, Tanya and Irina excused themselves from the table and Alice rounded on Bella.

"Are they...?" she trailed off, unsure how to finish the question without being rude. Bella choked on her iced tea, sputtering it outward in a very unladylike fashion as she coughed and dove for her napkin.

"Yeah," she croaked, tears filling her eyes as she both laughed and coughed at the same time. "They've been together for like seven or eight years now. Ever since their sophomore year of high school."

"That's..._awesome_," Alice beamed, her face a mix of awe and delight. "How many people can say they stayed with their high school sweetheart after graduation?"

Bella wasn't sure why, but she breathed a sigh of relief. It wouldn't have been the first time she'd introduced her best friends to someone she knew and an issue arose. She'd really hoped Alice wouldn't have been judgmental of their sexual orientation because, in truth, she was loyal to her girls and anyone who had an issue with them, had an issue with her.

"It is," Bella nodded, a feeling of wistfulness creeping up on her. "Anyone would be lucky to find the kind of love they share."

Alice watched as Bella drifted further and further away from her, lost in her thoughts as she stared off into the distance. It wasn't hard to notice the longing etched across her features and swimming in her eyes, not when she'd seen that same expression countless times on Edward's face.

"Bella? Do you like my brother in-law?" Just moments after asking the question, Alice felt as though she was right back in high school. It sounded like such a juvenile thing to ask at their age, but a lot was riding on her answer. Everything could be riding on her answer.

"_Of__course _I do," Bella blanched, wondering why Alice would ever assume she didn't. "He's nice and funny...well sometimes he's funny anyway, and he hasn't kicked me out for annoying the ever living fluff out of him yet, so what's not to like, right?"

"Bella," Alice sighed, trying not to laugh. "I know you like him as a person."

"Then why did you ask me if I do?" Bella asked, feeling as though she must have somehow zoned out long enough to miss an entire conversation.

"I meant do you _like him,_ like him — as in more than friends," Alice laughed, unable to subdue her amusement at Bella's confounded expression.

"What? I...Alice..." Bella wasn't sure _what_ to say to her in response to that. It was too soon for her to even fathom seeing him as more than a friend. She barely knew him, even though they'd spent quite a bit of time together since he'd awoken with her having not missed a day of going to visit him for at least a few hours.

"Like who? Bella's crushin' on someone?" Irina asked as she and Tanya returned to the table. "_Ooooh_, this oughta be _good_."

"No one," Bella answered at the same time as Alice answered, "Edward."

"Edward, as in her firefighter hero, Edward? Same guy?" Tanya asked, sounding all too interested in details that didn't exist.

"Yeah, he's my brother in-law," Alice nodded, smiling softly.

"Oh!" Tanya gasped. "You're _Alice_! Like _the_ Alice! And here I sat thinking you were like, one of Bella's co-workers or something."

"Honey, your hair's too tight if you didn't put two and two together the moment Bella introduced her to us," Irina snickered, laughing even harder when Tanya smacked her shoulder, their interaction making Alice cover her mouth with her napkin as she shook with laughter.

"I'm sorry, really," Tanya apologized sincerely for her oversight. "But, _wow_..." she trailed off breathily, shaking her head. A moment later her eyes narrowed and locked on Bella. "I _knew _there was something going on between you two! I mean, who in their right mind spends as much time at a hospital visiting someone as you do?"

"Ugh," Bella grunted, slumping down in her chair. "There's _nothing _going on between us. We're friends...if _that_ even!"

"Oh sweetie...I do believe they call that river you're swimming in _De-Nile_," Irina chortled, sparking an uproar of comments to fly around the table, all aimed in Bella's direction.

Bella sighed to herself. This was just getting way too out of hand, and for no reason at all. Even if by chance she _did _like Edward in a more than platonic fashion, she wasn't foolish enough to believe anything could ever come of it.

"Guys..._guys_!" Bella slapped her hand down on the table. "Even if I did like him, and I'm not by _any_ means confessing to anything of the like here," she eyed them seriously so they'd know she wasn't joking or being evasive in the slightest. On the contrary, her voice was unwavering and her gaze was level, leaving no signs of an attempt at dishonesty to question. "Even if I did...it wouldn't make a difference. A new relationship is the last thing he needs right now, and even if he wanted one, I'd be the _last_ person on Earth he'd want it with."

Silence ensued around the table after Bella's declaration. Looks of sadness and concern passed between the three of her friends, each of them understanding the reason she'd said what she did. But after moments of silence, it was Alice, not either of Bella's best friends, who spoke up.

"Why not? Why _wouldn't_ he want you?"

Bella groaned and ran her hand through her hair, gripping the roots of her hair tightly as she tried to swallow down the heartache she harbored but didn't wish for anyone else to bear witness to. "Because, Alice, I'm someone he saved from a fire, not someone he met in a bar! Can we drop this, please? _Please_?" Bella begged, desperate to get away from this topic because not only did it make her uncomfortable, but it hurt to talk about, too.

"No one wants to bed the reason they're stuck in one, so can we just move on now?"

"So you _do _like him...or at least want to _bed_ him," Tanya teased.

"I'm done," Bella sighed, digging into her purse and throwing thirty dollars onto the tabletop. It'd be more than enough to cover her meal and her part of the tip. "I'll wait for you guys inside the mall."

Not responding to her friends calling after her, Bella quickly made her way out of the restaurant and into the mall. She was tired, and frankly, didn't feel much like shopping any longer. She wished they could have all just let it go because over the last few days, she'd questioned what it was she was feeling when she was in his company with greater frequency than she wished to. She sometimes found herself wondering if it could be possible for him to ever see her as anything more than a friend at best, only to be snapped back into reality by his casual interactions with her.

He never stared at her when she wasn't looking, the way she did him.

He never reached out to touch her for no other reason than to just touch her, the way she'd caught herself doing time and time again.

If there was something building between them, it was entirely one-sided, and she wouldn't allow herself to become deluded enough to believe otherwise.

What she didn't realize, however, was that Edward would frequently watch her when she wasn't paying attention. He'd watch her catch her pen between her teeth and tap it against her lips as she tried to solve one of their numerous daily puzzles. He'd watch her zone out into a book when she thought he was sleeping. And he'd even watch her sleep on the occasions when he'd wake to find her slumped in a chair, her book having tumbled out of her hands and to the floor at some point. He'd watched her frequently and had to suppress the urge to reach out to her just as often.

He'd never met anyone like her, and quite truthfully, she bewildered him. Everything about her made his thoughts spin dizzily. Edward had long since become accustomed to living his life within the constraints of others' expectations. How he acted, what he did, even many of his choices were dictated by the people around him.

But with her — with her he was able to just be _himself_.

Bella didn't expect anything out of him, didn't ask for anything to be handed to her, and didn't intrude where she felt she didn't belong — even if he wished she wouldn't leave. Therein lay the bulk of his confusing feelings when it came to her, because he almost _never_ wished for her to leave. He'd never craved someone's company so much in his entire life, having nearly always been the loner both within his family and within the stationhouse.

Even now, as he sat in his new room with Emmett and Rosalie sitting beside his bed, he had to resist the temptation to reach out for the phone and dial Bella's number just to see where she was and ask if she was stopping by. Emmett had decided to make use of the game console Alec had brought over and connected to the 1990 _Zenith_ television Alice had brought him. She'd said it had been sitting in a storage room ever since some of the nurses and doctors in the ER all pitched in to buy a flat-screen for their break room. He wasn't sure if she was telling the truth, but he didn't really care either because it was better than the little eight inch TV he'd been using. As for the gaming console, he only ever used it when Bella was around because at least she wasn't a sore loser. He even occasionally let her win a round in whatever game they were playing just to be a good sport.

As Rosalie prattled on about the baby nursery and possible names, Edward's eyes flicked to the clock on the wall just above the dry erase board with his nurse's name and the date. It was already six o'clock at night and Bella hadn't yet stopped by or even called. He couldn't even deny it to himself, he missed her and wished she'd come and rescue him from having to listen to Rosalie drone on and on and on.

"Wasn't Peanut supposed to be off today?" he asked, needing to distract Rose before he ripped his hair out. Was there really a difference between _Sun Shower_ and _Pale Daffodil_? He couldn't tell the difference, but after twenty color swatch cards, he was absolutely positive he'd never even _think_ about painting anything in his house_ any _shade of yellow. Sunshine, daffodils, bumble bees, butter-whatever-s be damned.

"Is she helping Jasper move back in to Mom and Pop's?"

"Nope, she's shopping with _Bella_," Rosalie responded, sneering her name as she rolled her eyes.

"Let it alone, babe," Emmett mumbled distractedly. He didn't need another fight breaking out between his wife and brother. Once was enough for him.

It had been bad enough for him being stuck between Rose and Bella, but in that situation there had been a clear definition between right and wrong. When it came down to him being stuck between all three of them — Edward, Rosalie, and Bella — the lines had become obscured and more difficult to navigate. He still felt that Rosalie had acted, and somewhat continued to act, out of line and undeservingly cruelly, but Edward's harshness when he'd bluntly told her to either get over it or get out and stay out, had hurt him as well as Rose. They were family and had every right to be there with him, not that Bella didn't because she'd more than earned her right to be there as well — but still, it had been rather heartless for him to say to Rosalie.

The only person who hadn't been in the wrong that day was Bella because she'd done nothing at all to instigate the argument to start with aside from show up at the wrong time. And it was only the wrong time because Rosalie had just arrived a half an hour before.

Emmett had eventually managed to get things smoothed over, but being placed in a position where he felt the need to defend three people in complete opposition of each other wasn't something he desired to experience again.

"Whatever," Rosalie huffed, crossing her arms over her chest and kicking her crossed leg agitatedly. "I promised I wouldn't be rude to her face anymore, but that doesn't mean I have to like her _or_ the fact that Alice would rather spend a day with _her_ than visit her brother in-law."

Edward was a mere millisecond away from snapping at her when a knock resounded within the small entry hall of his room, followed by the voice he'd been missing all day.

"Hello, hello? I come bearing gifts." He could hear the smile in her voice and, even though he'd been scowling just a moment before, an answering grin overtook his lips.

"Speak of the Devil and she shall appear," Rosalie muttered under her breath just as Bella stopped short at the end of the hall.

"Hey Bella," Emmett greeted her. "What's shakin' bacon?"

"Um...not much," she stumbled, her comfort level dropping into the sub-zero range upon sight of Rosalie in the room. One epic fight had been enough for her as well, and she'd vowed that day that she'd never be the cause of another.

"What's that?" Edward asked, pointing to whatever she was holding behind her back.

"Oh...um, I figured you might be getting tired of hospital chow by now, so I, uh, I stopped and picked you up some dinner from that burger joint you said you liked," she stammered, moving into the room and setting the bag on the portable tray table beside his bed. Her eyes flickered between Edward and Rosalie, who was glaring at the wall across from her.

"Are you serious? You got me some Mary's?" Edward asked, shooting upright in his bed. "Tell me you got me that bacon onion burger I was telling you about."

"Um...yeah," Bella replied, trying to force a smile on her face as he reached out for the bag. She dropped her voice and moved a step closer, helping him to position the tray over his bed, "Listen, I just wanted to drop this by. I didn't know you already had company so I'm gonna go."

"Wha'? Nah uh," he said through a mouthful of greasy fries. He moaned as his eyes rolled back, his smile growing as he held up a finger telling her to wait a minute. He could have died and gone to Heaven with just that first bite, but he wasn't euphoric enough to allow her to just leave after only being there for a minute and a half.

When he opened his eyes, he tried to give Bella his full attention, but his hand had a mind of its own as it reached back into the bag for more fries, making her laugh. "Don't leave. You just got here and you still owe me a rematch after whooping my ass in that wrestling game last night."

"Edward," she whispered, looking at him apologetically. "I don't want to intrude...I'll come back in the morning. I promise."

"Oh for shit's sake!" Rosalie exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air and standing to face her. "It's _fine_. Sit, stay, hell, move the fuck on in if you want to."

"Damnit Rose," Edward groaned, falling back against his bed and gripping his hair.

"Emmett, let's go," she muttered, gathering her few belongings. "_Emmett_, I said _let's go_."

He shook his head and sighed to himself as he pulled himself up from his slumped position wordlessly. His body language was screaming his disappointment in her, but Rose couldn't find it in herself to care at the moment.

"I'll see you guys later," Emmett mumbled, feeling embarrassed enough for the both of them as he trailed after his wife.

Bella stood in place, shuffling her feet just as quickly as her emotions flipped between anger at Rosalie and guilt for having abruptly ended Edward's visit with his family, but when Edward growled and pushed his tray table away, her anger peaked. She turned on her heel and ran out of the room, determined to catch up to them.

"Hey!" Bella spat, grabbing a hold of Rosalie's shoulder. Rose spun with fury in her eyes, but was caught off guard by the mirrored image of her own rage shining back at her through Bella's eyes.

"I was fully prepared to leave the moment I saw you in the room, even though I'd been looking forward to visiting him _all day_, because I'm not willing to put additional stress on him just because you're incapable of acting anything even _remotely_ civilly toward me. I don't care if you don't like me or don't want to be around me, but acting like _that_," Bella seethed, throwing her hand back and pointing towards Edward's room, "Hurts _him_ more than it hurts me and I'll be _damned_ if I stand by and let you do that to him. He doesn't need it and he most certainly doesn't _deserve _it after all he's done for you."

As Bella spun away from her tirade, Rosalie could do nothing but stand there slack jawed and staring at her retreating form while Emmett ducked his head to hide his inappropriate grin. Back in Edward's room, Edward had overheard every one of Bella's words, and as he heard her step back into the room and pause to release a calming breath, he was in complete _awe_ of her.

"Sorry about that," Bella breathed, hesitantly stepping out of her hidden concealment within the small corridor and into his room. She felt horrible for just running out on him, but seeing him so visibly upset had been unbearable for her and she couldn't allow it to continue.

Edward just smiled at her and pointed to the chair next to his bed. When she sat, he pulled his burger out of the bag and halfway unwrapped it before holding it out toward her. "Wanna try a bite?"

She quirked a brow at him, unable to keep the smile from forming across her lips as she leaned forward and took a bite out of it. She'd thought about getting herself one of the burgers he'd raved about a few days back, but hadn't had the appetite after her day of shopping with three women who had caused her brain to become overwhelmed with things she'd been refusing to allow herself to think about.

"Mm," she hummed, covering her mouth. "That _is_ good."

"I know," Edward laughed around a mouthful of burger. After he swallowed, he turned his head to smile at her.

"Thank you — for the burger...and for what you said out there."


	21. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: Twilight character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. All intellectual properties associated with _Through the Flames_ belong to SparklingTwilight. Plagiarism is theft. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization. Thank you.

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*****PLEASE READ THE AN AT THE END OF THE CHAPTER*****

***Sniffle Warning. Have a hankie or 2 on hand***

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The Chinks in Angel Armor

It seemed like weeks had gone by in a blink of an eye for both Edward and Bella, their days, and many nights, filled with moments of both laughter and seriousness as they forged a solid friendship with one another. They spent hours talking and learning about each other when no one else was around, which, peculiarly, was more frequent than not.

His family claimed they were just busy, Emmett and his father both having gone back to work, and his mother trying to stay on top of the things in Edward's life that he was currently unable to tend to. But after some very curious looks when they _did_ come to visit, Bella was skeptical of their true reasons behind their short and, in some cases, no longer daily appearances.

They'd been acting strangely ever since the weekend of the fundraiser—which had gone _fabulously_. In just one day they'd managed to raise almost seventeen thousand dollars for his cause. Her boss, Jay Jenks, and his father had even stopped by and given a donation on behalf of the city. His family, with the exception of Rosalie, still continued to treat her kindly, but every time Edward called her on that Saturday, his family - especially his mother and Alice - would just act—_strangely_. Unsubtle elbow jabs, indiscrete whispers, and excitement filled eyes had Bella casting them wary glances as she stepped away to take the calls. She had no idea what the two of them were up to, nor did she think she _wanted _to.

As the end of August sped toward them, Edward found his aggravation with still being stuck in the hospital peaking at unprecedented levels. The only thing that soothed his agitation was Bella's ability to take his mind off of his surroundings for periods of time. When he was left alone at night, he'd last an hour or two, at most, before wanting to tear the walls down.

He'd been _so close_ to being released just two weeks before. They'd finally removed the chest tube that had been the literal thorn in his side, but just a few hours after having it removed, they'd had to replace it because a pocket of air had collected in his chest, threatening to collapse his lung again. They'd called it a _pneumothorax,_ but he'd just called it a pain in his ass.

He was tired. Tired of physical therapists coming in to work with him on regaining full use of his legs, because he wasn't in pain until they started moving his legs all over the damn place. Tired of being jabbed every morning for routine blood work, and having to endure the cafeteria food when Bella didn't sneak him in something better which, admittedly, was rare. He was tired of needing two people and a wheelchair every time he just needed to go to the bathroom, and he was _really _tired of being wheeled down to radiology twice everyday for routine chest x-rays, where he'd inevitably end up arguing with whatever tech was unlucky enough to get him because he refused to remove his chain and medallion for the pictures.

"Looks like someone's being a _Sullen Cullen _this morning," Bella's quiet voice snickered, making his distant gaze refocus and dart in her direction. To his surprise, she wasn't alone but flanked on either side by her parents.

"Hope you don't mind," she smiled as she approached the bed, "But the cavalry decided last minute to come with."

"No, not at all," Edward attempted a smile as he nodded toward them in greeting. "Charlie, Renee...G'morning."

"Good morning, sweetie. How are you holding up?" Renee asked, brushing his hair away from his forehead. It had grown far too long for his liking during his stay and he couldn't wait to get the hell out of there and shear that shit off. He'd rather be bald than have the cowlick ridden disaster of a mop-top he was currently sporting.

"I'd be better if I didn't have to eat that bowl of what they're trying to pass off as cream of wheat, that's for sure," he grimaced, pointing toward the bowl he'd left abandoned on the tray table.

"Well hopefully this might tempt your palate a little bit more, hm?" Renee smiled warmly, retrieving two Tupperware containers from her incredibly large purse. When she popped the lid off of one, the mouth watering scent of maple syrup and cinnamon accompanied the delicious sight of three pieces of powdered sugar sprinkled french toast.

"Don't look at me," Bella laughed, shaking her head when he looked at her in question. "I burn it every time I try to make it because when I try to cook it on a lower heat it comes out soggy and gross."

"Renee, you are a _godsend_," Edward grinned, "Thank you."

"You're quite welcome, now dig in while I get rid of," Renee cringed when she looked at the bowl of white lumpy substance, "...whatever _that_ is over there."

They all conversed casually as Edward nearly inhaled the container of french toast and side of fresh cut fruit. When Charlie asked him if he'd heard word of when his doctors would attempt to remove the tube again, Edward grunted around a mouthful of food and swallowed as he nodded.

"As long as my chest x-ray today looks as good as yesterday's, they'll try to take it out again sometime later today."

He didn't want to get his hopes up again, but it was rather hard not to when they dangled the carrot of "_If everything goes as planned, we should be able to discharge you by the week's end_" in front of him.

"Ugh, I'm getting fat from all this good food you all have been sneaking in to me," Edward laughed, patting his belly after he pushed the table tray away. "I'll be as big as a house by the time I can work it off if you guys keep this up."

"We're just trying to get you back where you were, kid. You lost almost thirty pounds over the first month in here," Charlie said, attempting to mask his concern with an easy going smile. He may have been able to fool Edward who didn't know him all that well, but Bella heard her father's worry clear as day and she cast him a secret, appreciative smile.

A little after ten am, Charlie and Renee said their goodbyes to Edward when hospital transporters arrived to wheel his bed down to radiology. Bella didn't even bother to ask him if he wanted her to come back later, having gotten the same answer every time she'd asked over the last few weeks. She walked beside his bed as they made their way down to the department, and then she waited in the outer corridor to keep him company while they waited for the transporters to return and bring him back upstairs. It was the same routine every morning and every evening before she went home, it never changed, but she was happy to do it for him if it was what he wanted. It beat sitting around in his room bored out of her mind.

When they got settled back into his room, Bella pulled out a deck of cards and quickly shuffled, "Gin, Rummy, Spades, or Texas Hold 'Em?"

"Hmm," Edward hummed, bobbing his head from side to side. "Gin—we played Spades yesterday and I played poker last night on my phone."

She dealt the cards and they eased into a comfortable silence as they formulated strategies in their minds. It wasn't until the fifth or sixth discard that Edward spoke.

"So Jasper called last night," he commented.

"Oh yeah? How's he doing?" Bella asked, her focus trained on the cards in her hand. "I haven't seen or talked to either him or Alice in a few days."

"He's doing okay. I think living with our parents again is driving him crazy because he asked if he could crash at my house instead," Edward laughed, picking up the King of diamonds Bella had just discarded. All he needed was the Jack of the same suit to call Gin.

"What'd you say to that?" Bella asked, slightly distracted as she tried to decide between going after trip tens or keep holding out for the nine she'd been waiting for.

"I told him to dream on," Edward snorted, picking up a card from the deck and pursing his lips at it before throwing it down as his discard card. "There's a reason I bought a house, and it wasn't so I'd end up living with my family again."

"How old were you when you bought your house?" Bella asked curiously, sliding the eight of diamonds she'd just picked up from the deck into its spot in her hand and pulling out one of the tens to discard.

"Twenty two. It took me a few years to save up enough for a down payment and another year of busting my ass just to furnish it," Edward chuckled, drawing another useless card from the deck. "My mom used to get on me all the time when I first moved in because the house was basically empty. The only things I had were from my bedroom in their house and a mini four cup coffee maker my father had given me as a joke."

"I don't get the joke," Bella said, dropping her hands to her lap as her brow furrowed. Edward just laughed and shook his head, "When you work twenty-fours, you blow through a four cup pot of coffee before you've even had a shower and then you have to brew a second pot for your to-go cup. I cursed him every morning until I learned how to program it to brew a pot before I woke up and trained myself to brew a second pot before heading back up the stairs for a shower."

"Good Lord! I'd keel over from a heart attack," Bella guffawed. "I once drank two frappaccinos in a span of three hours and my heart was racing so fast I thought I was going to pass out...Gin, by the way."

"What?" Edward barked, snatching up the card she'd laid face down on the discard pile and groaning. "You had my card the whole time!"

They spent the next two and a half hours playing Gin, with Edward refusing to let her shuffle or deal because he was convinced she was rigging the deck. Gin was the only card game she remained undefeated in. He hadn't even won a single game against her, and they'd been playing it for _weeks_. She was ruthless.

When his lunch tray arrived just before two, Bella promptly threw it in the trash and grabbed her purse to go find them something better to eat. He wouldn't put any weight back on by eating watery soup and sandwiches that were questionable as to whether they were tuna or chicken salad.

While she was gone, he watched the clock tick away, each minute passing bringing him one minute closer to his four o'clock torture session, otherwise known as physical therapy. He wondered what was in store for him that day, but was brought out of his thoughts by a knock on the door. He shouted for them to come in and smiled when Alice, dressed in her work scrubs, came around the corner. His smile was short lived, however, when he saw her face.

"What's up, Peanut?" he asked worriedly.

"You have a minute? I need to...talk," she replied, sinking down into the seat Bella had been in not long before.

"For you? Always, you know that," he sighed, turning on his side with great effort to face her. "Alright, I'm all ears. Lay it on me."

"So you know how Jasper and I have been seeing this therapist...counselor...whatever, right?" she asked and he nodded, remembering her mentioning how Bella had pulled some kind of strings to get them a few free sessions. "Well we had a session this morning and Jasper unloaded on me about how he still loves me even though I've changed so much over the last few years that he feels like he doesn't even know me sometimes, and how even though he feels that way, he never questioned leaving me."

Alice's eyes began to tear again, proving her previous assumption that she'd cried herself dry to be erroneous. Jasper had spent nearly the entire hour screaming at her and then storming out without allowing her to get a single word in edgewise. After he'd slammed the door behind him on his way out, Alice had sat in that office with their counselor and destroyed an entire box of Kleenex while sobbing so violently that she was rendered incapable of intelligible speech.

"Have I really changed that much?" she sniffed, wiping away under her eyes with her knuckles.

Edward sighed, running a hand through his hair as he contemplated how to answer that question. Had she changed since they'd gotten married? Yes, and quite a bit, but not in a bad way, and definitely not in a way that made it seem as though she'd turned into a stranger to him.

"Peanut, I don't really know what to tell you," he frowned, knowing he'd have to speak honestly and dreading his words hurting her even more. "Yeah you've changed, but it was to be expected, you know? You grew up—matured. You became an adult who wants adult things and there's _nothing_ wrong with that, Ali. The problem is that while you evolved, he didn't. Jasper is the same person now as he was back in his senior year of high school. Give him a five dollar bill and the choice between paying a bill or buying a beer, and he'll go for the beer, every time."

Alice closed her eyes, sending a stream of tears and mascara down her sun kissed face as she shook her head. She was at a loss, and no matter how deep she looked into herself, she couldn't find the answers she needed to be able to fix their situation. To be able to fix _them_.

"I don't know what to do anymore, Edward," she breathed, her chin quivering as more tears continued to spill down her cheeks. He turned over and grabbed the box of tissues off his nightstand and handed them to her silently, waiting for her to compose herself and continue.

"It's just..." she trailed off, letting a strangled sound of anguish escape her throat as she threw her hands in the air, "We've been going to these sessions once a week for a month now, and next week is our last freebie and I'm not sure anymore if there's even a point to us doing this. Especially not after today. We just don't seem to be getting anywhere with it."

Edward rolled onto his back, staring at the wall as he thought back to all the conversations he'd had with both her and Jasper since he'd awoken. He remembered Alice telling him at some point about Jasper's breakdown in the ICU waiting room and, a few days later, when he'd asked his brother about it, Jasper told him Alice had asked him to move out to give them both a little space while they tried to work on their marriage. He could clearly remember Jasper being hopeful that they'd be able to save their marriage the day he'd spoken to him about it, but he knew how his brother worked, and right now, Jasper needed a swift kick in the pants.

"Drop him on his ass, Alice," Edward finally spoke, turning his head to look at her.

"What?" she whimpered, more tears coming to her eyes as they darted around the room. "I...Edward...I don't think I can."

"You can and, more importantly, you _need to_," he pressed, shaking his head at her when she moved to argue. "Peanut, this is _Jasper_ we're talking about here. The man doesn't learn a damn thing unless he's forced to learn it the hard way. The best advice I can give you is drop him on his ass and save the money you'd throw away on therapy until the time comes when it won't be wasted. And I guarantee you the time will come, because he may be dense, but he's not stupid. You're the best thing that ever has or _will_ happen to him. Give him a little time of stewing in thinking he blew it, and he'll realize that."

"What if he doesn't?" she sniffed, ripping another tissue from the box.

"Then he doesn't deserve you, Ali."

By the time Alice left the room, she'd almost been late to punch in for her three to eleven shift, but she'd resolved herself to do as Edward had advised. If anyone knew Jasper, Edward did, and she trusted Edward to steer her in the right direction. If she'd figured out anything during her and Jasper's marriage counseling sessions, it was that she _wanted_ to save their marriage. She just didn't know how or if it was even possible.

When quarter to four rolled around and Bella hadn't returned, Edward began to wonder where in the world she'd gone to get them lunch.

When his physical therapy session came to an end at five thirty and she _still_ hadn't returned, he began to assume she'd gotten held up by something important.

When his doctor came in and removed his chest tube at ten after six, he began to worry horribly.

When his dinner tray arrived at seven, he'd blown passed anxious and gone straight to frantic because she wasn't even answering her phone. He couldn't even think about eating with the way his stomach was churning at the thought of something horrible having happened to her.

When she barreled through the door at quarter after eight, he ripped her head off while grabbing at his side because of the pain it caused him to do so.

"Where the _fuck_ have you been?"

"I'm sorry, God I'm so sorry!" she panted, a slight wheeze escaping her lungs in rapid bursts. She felt like she was about to collapse, so she sank down into the chair to catch her breath. "Your brother...caught me on my way back up. Rose...went into labor early...and he was frantic...because they wouldn't let him...in the room with her...some complication."

"What the fuck? Why hasn't _anyone _called me?" he fumed, reaching for his cell and double checking it, only to see he had no missed calls.

"No one else...is here," she panted, unable to catch her breath. "My phone's dead...he left his at home...and he wouldn't...let me leave him. Crap...give me a minute here."

"Where's your air pack?" he asked, his anxiety spiking even higher at her increasing pallor.

"In the car," she groaned as she bent forward and concentrated on taking deep breaths. He was half tempted to hit his call button to summon a nurse for her; more than half tempted. He'd actually reached for it but she'd smacked his hand out of the way and violently shook her head at him. It took a solid fifteen minutes of him ripping his hair out for her to finally start breathing normally again, and if the past few hours hadn't aged him a decade, the last twenty minutes _definitely _had.

"Sorry," she mumbled, blowing out a gust of air. "So...as of eight-oh-four you're officially an uncle to a five pound eleven ounce baby boy."

"Is he okay?" Edward asked nervously.

"Yeah, ten fingers, ten toes and breathing well on his own according to the doctor," she said and then grimaced slightly. "I didn't stick around to see him because...well...I'm pretty sure I'm the _last _person Rosalie would have wanted to see right now, but I stayed long enough to hear that mom and baby are doing just fine."

"Why didn't you just call me from a nursing station?" he asked, not pausing before shooting off another one, "Why aren't my parents here, or Alice? She should have been in the ER when Rose came in."

"Emmett tried getting a hold of your parents when they were in the ER, but he said couldn't get through to either one of them, and I didn't even know Alice was working. Emmett didn't say anything about her being down there," she answered as best she could. The last few hours were like a blur of chaos in her mind. "And I didn't call you because I told you, Emmett wouldn't let me leave him alone...like not even to walk down the hall to a nursing station. He didn't want me to tell you because he didn't want you to be sitting here worrying about them but not being able to even go down there or anything."

"Nice, so he leaves me sitting here worrying my ass off over _you_. Jesus, Bella...I thought you got into a car wreck or some shit," he grumbled, pulling at his hair again.

"I'm sorry...I didn't think you'd freak out over me," she cringed.

Edward looked at her, completely dumbfounded that she'd think he wouldn't worry when she failed to return for _six and a half hours_. He'd lost track of how many disturbing scenarios ran through his mind—at some point everything from a car accident to a fast food joint robbery, complete with a hostage crisis situation had flittered through his brain.

"Why the hell wouldn't I? You're my..._friend_," he nearly spat. "Wouldn't you worry about one of your friends, too?"

And there it was, the pause before he said the word friend because he wasn't sure _what _to call her, and then just how he'd said the word—almost as if it was offensive for some reason. She looked down at the ground, feeling horrible for making him worry but even worse for beginning to allow herself to believe in the possibility that he could one day see her as something more than a friend, when it was so obvious now that she'd been right all along. It was hopelessly impossible.

"Sorry...again."

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**A/N****: Okay, so here's the deal. Aside from having a craptastic week filled with sinusitis and seasonal allergies that made me crabby as all get out last week, I'm in a bit of a writing funk atm. Updates may or may not stick to a weekly schedule for a bit until I can work through this mental constipation I'm suddenly being afflicted with. **

**On a better note, I threw out an idea for doing a TTF character interview on Twitter the other night, and since the people that responded seemed to enjoy the idea of being able to delve deeper into some of these characters' heads, I'm gonna roll with it. So here goes. **

**Have a question you've been **_**dying **_**to know the answer to? Want one of the character's personal take on an event within this story? Here's your chance to ask them! **

**You can PM, Tweet, instant message, or review me your questions - all methods of contact are in my FFn profile ^_^ I only ask that you keep the questions specific to characters in the story, and pertaining to anything from their past leading to present within the story thus far. **

**Interviews will appear on the Twilighted forum thread for this story:**

**www(dot)twilighted(dot)net/forum/viewtopic(dot)php?f=44&t=9613&p=1094795&hilit=through+the+flamesp1094795**

**And also on the Through the Flames blog: **

**http:/sparklingtwilight-ttf(dot)blogspot(dot)com**

**HUGE shout-out to my homegirl Julieblys for taking over creation of the blog, for I surely would have been bald by this point had she not. She single-handedly managed to turn my giant craptastic mess into something that makes me **_**squee**_** every time I open the browser. (Except when the content warning blog-blocks my ass...we're still working on figuring that weirdness out.)**

**Okay I'm done...It's time to play a little TTF 20 Questions ^_^**

**Ready...**

**Set...**

**Go!**


	22. Chapter 21

Disclaimer: Twilight character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. All intellectual properties associated with _Through the Flames_ belong to SparklingTwilight. Plagiarism is theft. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization. Thank you.

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If Only...

On Tuesday, August 25th at precisely eight-oh-four pm, Ian Edward Cullen made an unexpected, and complicated, entrance into the world and the awaiting arms of his mother. Named after Rosalie's father and his own uncle, who would undoubtedly also be his greatest role model as he grew up, Ian's physical features took after—neither. Instead, he was nearly a spitting image of Rosalie herself as a newborn with platinum blonde fuzz for hair, milky blue eyes, and her delicate, dainty features.

As his mother and father cradled him in their arms, Bella and Edward sat together, squirming under the weight of their stifling silence. He was angry and brooding, his inability to let go of his mood fueled by the adrenaline from his prolonged state of anxiety working its way out of his system. She, on the other hand, just felt—well...stupid. Stupid and foolish about summed up the feelings causing her extreme discomfort in his presence. When his nurse came in at nine and informed her that visiting hours had ended, and if she'd like to spend the night she'd need to get a pass, she squared her shoulders long enough to politely say goodnight and make her escape.

The following morning at breakfast, when her parents asked her what time she was going to head out to the hospital to see Edward, she answered only with a silent shrug. She hadn't been sure if she was going to visit him or not, but she'd been leaning more toward the not after experiencing the tension between them the night before.

Charlie and Renee shared a look that went entirely unnoticed by their daughter, both of them worried over her abrupt change in behavior. The last time they'd seen her so withdrawn had been when she'd been distressed and depressed over being stuck in her hospital room. Before then, they couldn't remember the last time she'd been in such an emotional state.

All morning she shuffled around her parents house in her pajamas, having not bothered to shower or change when she woke up. When she joined Renee at the table for lunch, still wearing her pajamas and the addition of a robe, Renee finally cracked.

"Bella...what is it, honey? What's wrong?" she asked softly, reaching over to place her hand upon her daughter's forearm.

"It's nothing. I'm just tired today and didn't see the point in changing when I don't feel like leaving the bed anyway," she answered, staring at her plate and contemplating how she was going to manage forcing the food down when she'd barely gotten breakfast down as it was. She was tired—physically, emotionally, and mentally.

"Are you getting sick? You don't feel warm," Renee worried, placing the back of her hand against Bella's forehead. Bella jerked her head away, neither rudely nor politely, just in an absent and sluggish motion that worried Renee even more.

"No, Mom. I'm just tired, okay? It's nothing to worry about. I just didn't sleep well last night, that's all," Bella reiterated, feeling her entire body sag in the chair. There was no way on earth she was getting that food down—or more importantly, _keeping_ it down.

Renee let it go, biding her time until Bella disappeared back up the stairs before snatching up the phone and stepping out onto the front porch. _Something_ was amiss with her daughter and the only place she'd been the day before was the hospital.

"Hi, Esme...it's Renee. Is everything okay with Edward today?" she asked, rubbing her forehead with her fingertips anxiously.

"Yes, he's fine, why? They actually just wheeled him down to meet his new nephew a few minutes ago," Esme replied.

"Oh, Rosalie had the baby already? I hope everything's okay," Renee frowned, her hand coming to a rest over her heart.

"Everything's fine," Esme chuckled. "Ian's perfectly healthy, just a little early, though he did cause quite the stir. Is everything alright, Renee? You seem upset."

Renee sighed, looking out over the yard as she tried to figure out if something had happened to cause her daughter to slip into a funk, or if she was downplaying an oncoming illness so as not to worry her. "I'm not sure. Bella's been..._off_, all day. I'm really hoping she isn't coming down with something, and if she is, that Edward hasn't caught it already with how much time they've been together recently."

"Oh dear," Esme gasped. "Edward didn't appear to be getting ill, but I'll keep a close eye on him. Please tell Bella I hope she feels better soon. I know she'll be missed sorely around here."

"I will, and please congratulate Emmett and Rosalie for us," Renee returned, not feeling even the slightest bit better after ending the call.

As Bella laid in bed, alternating between napping for brief minutes and shedding tears that agitated her even more than she already was because it was just pitiful that she felt this way to begin with, Edward tried to keep a smile on his face whenever he was in eyeshot of someone in his family. He'd been successful thus far, but he'd been longing to escape to the privacy of his room for hours.

He felt like the world's biggest prick for how he'd yelled at Bella the night before. Even if it hadn't been such a chaotic twist of events that had kept her from returning, even if she'd just _chosen_ to go home instead of coming back, and regardless of the fact that she'd thrown away his disgusting lunch, he'd had no right to speak to her that way. Not after everything she'd done for him—for all the help she'd been willingly and gladly offering him.

Holding his nephew had been great, but it had been overshadowed by his disappointment in himself. Just knowing little Ian and Rosalie were doing well was enough for him, but unlike his nephew and sister in-law, he didn't have a clue how Bella was faring in the wake of his atrocious behavior. He wanted nothing more than to steal away to his room, without someone following behind him, so he could call her.

Unfortunately, he didn't get that chance until well after seven at night, but the moment his door shut behind the last person, he snatched up his cell phone and quickly scrolled down the call history list to her number. His finger only wavered for the briefest of moments before pressing down upon the call button.

Bella growled into her hands as she wiped furiously at the tears in her eyes when her cell began to ring, again. It had been going off practically _nonstop _since four and she'd been ignoring it each and every time it went off. She didn't want to talk to anyone. She never even bothered to check and see who was calling her, and she didn't this time either as she slammed her hand down over the blasted device, and smashed her thumb into the button that sent the call to her voicemail.

The very second it silenced, she buried herself back under the blanket and closed her eyes against the tears—only to have them shoot open ten seconds later when her phone rang, _yet again_.

She'd finally grown tired of the forwarding game and reached over to shut it off, but froze when she saw Edward's name on the screen. As she stared at it, unsure if she wanted to answer it or not, it eventually silenced itself as his call went to her voicemail.

"Stupid...stupid...stupid..." she chanted to herself, fresh tears spilling from her eyes as she dropped her phone clad hand down onto the mattress. Why she'd even contemplated answering it when he probably just wanted to rip her a new one for not bringing him decent food, or for not being there to fluff his pillows and tame his boredom, she didn't know, but the fact that a part of her had _wanted _to answer his call made a round of sobs erupt from her chest.

When it went off a third time in a row, she jerked upright in bed, tears streaming down her face but her sobs quieted as panic shot through her. _What if it wasn't __**him**__ calling, but someone trying to get a hold of her to tell her something had happened to him?_

Without giving it another thought, she'd flipped the phone open and brought it to her ear, answering it while trying to keep her voice steady, but failing horribly. The moment Edward heard the tremor in her tear strained voice, his eyes closed and shoulders sagged.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, shaking his head at himself for being the reason behind why she sounded so miserable.

Dumbfounded by his agonized voice and words, she said nothing, merely bit down on her lip to keep from sobbing yet again.

"I'm sorry, Bella," he repeated, his voice _impossibly_ even more pained. "I was an ass and no one in my life could have deserved it less than you did."

"No," she whimpered, releasing a shaky breath as she fought to keep herself composed. "It was my fault. I should have ignored Emmett and found a way to tell you."

His lips pursed to the side, realizing he'd thought the same thing the night before, that having been the basis of his anger, but the words he spoke next were entirely truthful, "Bella, it's not your job to keep me in the loop of what's going on within my family. It's _their_ job to do that and I had no right to get mad at you like I did."

"But I was thoughtless and I made you sit there worried for hours," she spluttered, losing her fight against her tears. "_And_ I threw your lunch out before I left, Edward!"

"That you did," he managed to chuckle, albeit painfully—and not physically painfully for once. "But Bella, missing one meal won't kill me. And yeah, I worried, but I've seen my little brother in a panicked state before and I can't blame you for not leaving him alone. If the situation had been reversed, I don't think I would have been able to either, though if the situation were reversed I'd still be in a physical state capable of strong arming him down the hall with me to a phone. I highly doubt you would have been able to manage that."

"No...I definitely wouldn't have," she laughed tearfully, making Edward smile slightly and sigh in relief.

"So have I redeemed myself at least enough to convince you to come tomorrow and help me pack?" he asked, his grin growing just a bit as she gasped.

"They're letting you out?"

"Saturday morning is the official eviction date...so long as nothing else goes wrong," he shrugged, once again not wanting to get his hopes up too high. "It's still two and a half days away, but I think seeing this place almost empty will help remind me that at least this part of my recovery is almost over."

"Well then..." she trailed off sighing softly to herself as she wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her bathrobe. "If it means I'm free and clear of walking in and finding a Sullen Cullen every morning until they give you the boot, consider your bags packed."

"Will you really come tomorrow?" he asked softly, knowing he couldn't blame her if she woke up in the morning and had a change of heart.

"Yeah...I'll be there," she answered, her voice just above a whisper and it tore him apart because she didn't sound happy like she usually did when she said she'd stop by the next day. She just sounded—resigned. And a moment later she bid him goodnight, nearly cementing the feeling within him that it wasn't something she really wanted to do.

"Goodnight, Bella," he mumbled, snapping his phone shut and dropping it on the bed after he heard the call disconnect. He slammed his palms into his eyes and then dragged his hands roughly over his face.

"Fuck me...I'm such an idiot," he grumbled to no one but himself.

As darkness slowly overtook Edward's room, loneliness like he'd never known it before began to creep over him, swaddling him in a cocoon of self pity as he stared unseeingly at the flickering eight inch television screen beside him. Sometime shortly after eleven—and he only knew the time because credits rolling in front of his face had prompted him to glance at the clock—his room door opened and shut quietly, but he paid no mind to who was entering. No one that mattered would be entering his room at such a late hour. He didn't need to look to verify it for himself that it was just his nurse coming in to take his vitals, or something else just as irritatingly repetitive.

"Edward? Are you sleeping?" the _last_ voice he expected to hear in his room at that time of night asked softly. Soft and timid, as if afraid of receiving a verbal lashing.

"Bella?" he whispered, his head snapping to the side. "What are you doing here?"

"I, um...I couldn't sleep," she said quietly, slowly shuffling toward him. "I called your nurse ahead of time and got the okay to get an overnight pass...is that okay?"

"It's more than okay," he sighed, relieved that he hadn't run her off permanently.

She fidgeted in place for a moment before holding out a nondescript brown paper bag toward him, "Haagen Daz Java Chip, right?"

"You brought me dessert?" he asked, quirking a brow at her, impressed she remembered his favorite brand—and flavor.

"It's...more of a peace offering?" She'd meant it to be a statement, but she'd begun second guessing herself and it ended up sounding like a question.

"I don't want it," he shook his head, taking the bag from her and tossing it onto the nightstand beside him before reaching out to wrap his hand around her wrist and pulling her toward him. She only put up a slight resistance, making him tug once gently until she was seated on the edge of his bed and close enough that he could pull her into his arms.

"I'm sorry...again," he whispered, tightening his arms around her as he repeated back to her the last heartbroken words she'd spoken to him before saying goodnight and all but running from the room the previous night.

"Me, too," she sniffled, burying her face into the crook of his neck as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

Edward held her until her silent tears had ceased dropping onto his shoulder and soaking through the t-shirt he was finally able to wear. After the last twenty four hours, he doubted he'd ever be able to forget how easily he could hurt her with just his hot temper. Having grown so comfortable with her company, and longing for it when she wasn't near, he said a silent prayer that he'd never treat her so horribly again.

When he released her, he scooted himself to the edge of the bed and patted the mattress between them, inviting her to join him. He wasn't about to make her sleep in an uncomfortable chair when she'd come to him in the moment he'd least deserved it. When she settled in beside him rigidly, uncomfortably, he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her into his side.

"I missed you today," he whispered, resting his chin atop her head and rubbing the arm he'd pulled across his chest.

With her head ducked down and resting on his chest, her face out of his line of sight, Bella had to squeeze her eyes shut against the shards of pain shredding her heart to pieces.

If only he knew it hadn't been his anger, but the way he'd spat the word _friend_ at her that had cut her so deeply.

If only he knew how much pain she was willing to endure just to one day feel as though he truly considered her as a _friend_.

"I missed you, too."

If only he knew how being in his arms while knowing, deep down, that it wasn't because he cared for her the way she cared for him, tore her to pieces that ignited themselves into scorching flames that seared her from the inside out.

If only.

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**A/N: Thank you all so much for your kind reviews, and double thanks to those of you who sent me questions for the cast. You guys are awesome! Interviews are now live and can be found on the Through the Flames blog here ~**

**http:/sparklingtwilight-ttf(dot)blogspot(dot)com**

**Love you all! C ya in a week or two!**

**If you're looking for something to keep yourselves occupied in the meantime, and you can hang with a heavy dose of heartache and a massive pile of mystery, check out the story that's PWNing me this week:**

**Virulent by squibstitcher**

**Summary:**

**Forbidden from each other. Two lost souls on a downward spiral. The last thing we needed was the other in our already mangled existences. But it was unavoidable. Together, we'd set fire to the world around us, consuming everything in our wake. AH/OOC**


	23. Chapter 22

Disclaimer: Twilight character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. All intellectual properties associated with _Through the Flames_ belong to SparklingTwilight. Plagiarism is theft. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization. Thank you.

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**A/N****: OMG...HUGE thanks to Nikki AKA Professor Plum over at P.I.C.'s Fanfic Corner for rec'ing and reviewing this story! It was a complete surprise and she did an awesome job ^_^ Here's the link if you'd like to check it out and show her some love: **

**picffcorner(dot)blogspot(dot)com/2010/09/professor-plum-goes-through-flames-by(dot)html?zx=7665254962f21e0**

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The Long Awaited Homecoming

Wednesday night marked the first, only, and last night Bella spent in Edward's room since he'd been moved from the ICU. It marked the last night because his nurse nearly flew off the handle when she'd found them sharing his bed and overnight visitors had been banned the following two nights while she was on shift. Bella wasn't sure if her relief following that bit of news stemmed from the knowledge that she slept much better in her own bed at home, or if it arose from her fear of not being able to survive another night spent in his arms when she felt for him the way she did.

She wanted to curse Alice, Tanya, and Irina for pushing into the forefront of her mind, the thoughts she'd been locking away, where they infiltrated her every quickly erected defensive mental wall. It had been those thoughts that she'd been forbidding herself to contemplate that had made her feelings for him blossom, and create the chink in her armor that she now bled through continuously.

But still, even though overnight privileges had been revoked due to their taboo hospital room sleeping arrangement, Bella continued to visit daily.

When Saturday afternoon rolled around, and along with it Edward's being discharged from the hospital, Bella stood beside the members of his family, _all _of them, with a matching beaming smile that, for once in the past few days, was entirely genuine. Regardless of how deeply she still ached, she was happy for him to finally be heading home.

"You're gonna follow us, right?" Edward asked and she had to laugh. All day he'd been pestering her to promise him she'd join the caravan back to his home.

"Yes, Edward," she rolled her eyes when her soft laughter died down. She nudged him in the side and pointed at the doctor in his room, the person he _should_ have been paying attention to.

"Someone from our rehabilitation center will be coming by your place of residence this afternoon to ensure you have any and all equipment you'll need to make your transition back into your home as least stressful as possible. I'm assuming the list of recommendations provided have been implemented already?" he paused, looking at Edward's parents.

"Yes, they have," Carlisle nodded. "We've had the ramps installed in the front, garage, and rear entrances. The contractors are due to install the handicap accessible shower stall on Monday in his lower level bathroom, but I'm sure we'll be able to manage until then. His furniture has been repositioned to give him easier maneuverability on the lower level, and his guest room bed has been moved down to the first floor as well."

"Excellent," the doctor nodded, satisfied. "Well, Edward, I do believe you're all set. A home health aide will come by twice a day for a few hours at a time to assist you with anything you may need, but from the looks of it, you have quite the support system already. I almost doubt you'll need anything from them at all." The doctor reached forward, extending his right hand toward him and Edward grinned as he shook it. "I wish you well and the best of luck, my friend."

"Thank you...with any luck this'll be the last you see of me," Edward laughed.

"With any luck, indeed," The doctor chuckled, shaking hands with Carlisle. "Take care everyone."

If anyone had questioned how excited Edward had been to be getting out of the hospital, the doubt in question evaporated as he sped his new wheelchair down the walkway toward the parking area.

"FREEDOM!" he crowed, throwing his hands in the air and looking like a crazy person as he coasted down the walkway, leaving his family and friends—and Bella—laughing in the dust behind him.

"He's gone absolutely mad," Emmett guffawed, cradling little Ian in one arm and hooking the other around Rosalie.

"No," Esme grinned, not so discretely linking her arm around Bella's, "He's just found a little piece of happiness."

Bella tried to look away, uncomfortable with the rather unsubtle insinuation that she knew to be entirely false, but her gaze landed on Alec's grinning face. He winked at her as he tossed an arm over her shoulders and ducked his head down.

"He has, you know."

By the time she reached her car and slid into the driver's seat, she had an incredible urge to just bash her head against the steering wheel in hopes that it would knock some sense into her. She'd felt it coming on for quite a while, slowly building in intensity, but approaching nonetheless. The weight of his family's, and even Edward's, expectations of her were beginning to press down upon her. She'd lost count over the days of how many times someone mentioned he needed to keep a positive mental outlook to overcome the obstacles he'd face, only to follow the mentioning minutes later with a falsely nonchalant comment about how much he's changed for the better since she'd come into his life. Or how many times someone mentioned how much assistance he'd need once he went home, only to follow it with words of praise toward her over how wonderfully she'd taken care of him in the hospital.

"_Good_ _god_," she breathed to herself, her eyes darting around the parking lot through her windshield, having not even yet put her keys into the ignition, "How did he deal with this for so many years?"

Bella rested her forehead against the rim of the steering wheel, closing her eyes as her vision blurred from tears. She wasn't sure if she could muster up the strength she'd need to continue enduring the weight of the Cullen family's expectations of her. How Edward had managed to survive years under the oppressive weight baffled her.

She'd seen the good in him, had witnessed time and time again over the last month just how selfless and bighearted he could be. She'd watched him place aside his own worries and problems to help others sort through theirs. She'd witnessed the degree of dedication and unconditional love it took for him to be able to put another person before himself, even when in his situation he had every right to think only of his own needs.

She'd seen it—and she was afraid.

Bella was afraid that if he kept focusing on the problems of others, he'd buckle under the weight of his own problems. She was afraid of the very real possibility of Edward never recovering completely, and even more afraid of what it would do to him if he didn't. And she was terrified of the thought that his family would suffocate him with their high held expectations of him, and destroy what chances he _did_ have at making a full recovery.

It was that fear, the very fear of the weight she was already suffering beneath, that gave her the strength to turn the key in her ignition, wipe the tears from her eyes, and take her place in the caravan heading toward Edward's home.

Someone needed to be there for him the way he was always stretching himself so thin to be for everyone around him. Someone needed to be there to stand up to them and make sure Edward was focusing on the only thing he needed to be—himself. Someone needed to help him shoulder the weight of the hardships he'd face instead of unloading the weight of their own burdens upon his shoulders.

And that person would be her, because in her mind, she owed it to him. His bravery and selflessness had given her the chance to live the rest of her life, to find happiness and joy and anything else she had ever longed for. With any luck, she'd be able to give him the same chance.

Only a block from the hospital, Bella's cell began to ring as the caravan of five cars was stopped at a red light. She quickly fished through her purse to retrieve it and cursed when she dropped the hands-free earpiece on the passenger side floor.

"Hello?" she answered, just as the light turned green.

"Hey, kiddo. Are you all on your way yet?"

"Hi, Dad...um, yeah. We just left the hospital so we should be there in...thirty minutes, I guess?" she replied, jostling the phone around as she tried to find the speaker phone button. The last thing she needed right then was to get pulled over for a moving violation because she was talking on the phone while driving. "Did you and Mom get everything set up? The Cullens left the key, right?"

"Yeah, yeah...everything's ready, Bells. I think you and Alice went a little overboard on balloons and stuff, but your mother found a spot for everything. Mom just left about a half hour ago to pick up the cake, so she should be back any minute now. Do you want me to fire up the grill now, or wait?"

In the front seat of Alice's car, Edward was staring into the rearview mirror, his head whipping around to look behind them every minute or so. The third time he nearly spun himself right into the backseat, Alice burst out laughing.

"What are you _doing_?"

He turned back around in his seat and looked into the rearview mirror as he frowned and spoke, "She's driving and talking on the phone."

"So?" she shrugged and he scowled at her.

"It's a distraction! She could get into an accident," he barked, spinning around to look behind him again.

"Edward, _really_," Alice scoffed, rolling her eyes. "We're going _thirty five_. What's the worst that'll happen? She rear-ends me and scuffs her bumper?"

"That's not the point," he mumbled, distracted by watching her suddenly burst into laughter. It made him wonder who she was talking to and why he didn't ask to ride with her when he'd really wanted to. He just didn't want to push his company on her when, for the last few days, it hadn't seemed like she'd really wanted to be around him as it was. Ever since he'd acted like such a prick toward her, she hadn't laughed with him like she was with whomever she was speaking to on the phone. It was only a slight change in their easy going friendship, one that could be explained away by a plethora of excuses, but the change was enough to cause him to worry that he'd never see her again after he left the hospital. It had almost made him wish something else would go wrong with him just so he'd be stuck there and she'd continue to visit him.

Alice let her gaze flicker toward him curiously after he turned back around in his seat and slumped in on himself. His earlier exuberance extinguished entirely. He was acting just like he had the day after Ian had been born, all happy and smiling when people were looking at him, but folding in on himself when they'd look away—only he was fully aware that Alice could see him.

At first, she'd just thought he'd been upset about having been kept out of the loop about Rosalie going into premature labor, but he'd kept acting the same way even after finding out that no one else had known either. As the day wore on, it became more and more evident that his gloominess had everything to do with Bella's unusual absence, and little to do with anything relating to the family.

"You like her, don't you?" Alice asked, intently keeping her expression neutral and her eyes focused on the road ahead. Still, out of the corner of her eye, she saw his head snap to the side.

"Of course I like her. How could I not like someone that's bent over backwards for me damn near every day? What the hell kind of question is that?"

"I swear you two were cast from the same mold," Alice rolled her eyes, trying desperately hard not to laugh.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing...absolutely nothing," Alice snickered, unable to keep it in any longer. They were just too much alike and both blind as bats. Neither could see what was right in front of their faces. Oblivious the two of them were, but she had faith they'd figure it out on their own, in their own time.

Years ago, when she was young and naive, she may have thought it best to meddle where she didn't belong by trying to force their eyes to see what everyone else could with ease, but if life had taught her anything, it was that there was no need to rush. She'd spent the last six years of her life running toward the future, only to wake up one day and realize that, in her haste, she'd lost what it was she'd been rushing to achieve.

Slow was good. Slow would allow them the time they needed to really know one another, to find in each other what they both wanted and needed. Slow would hopefully keep them from waking up one day to the world of hurt and longing her life had become.

Behind Bella, Alec and Jasper pulled up the rear of the caravan, riding together in Alec's new car; a used but well taken care of 2002 Mercury Cougar. It wasn't anything even close to what he'd wanted, but he'd been desperate for wheels, it ran well, and it was all he could afford until his divorce was finalized. He just hoped it would hold out until he could afford what he really wanted; a 2010 Chevy Tahoe that could simultaneously carry all his friends and tow the boat he hoped to buy in the future.

"So he's really gonna let you crash at his place?" Jasper grumped, ticked off that Edward would let his friend live with him, but not his brother.

"Uh huh," Alec nodded, "I can't afford a place of my own right now and the station's not exactly an ideal place to _live_, so..." he trailed off with a shrug.

"That's _bullshit_," Jasper fumed. "I asked him a week ago if I could crash there and he flat out told me no."

"Dude, he's not giving me a free place to _crash_," Alec argued, "He needs _help_. He can't exactly do shit on his own right now. Can you honestly look me in the eye right now and tell me that you'd be willing to be at his beck and call just to be able to stay there? Because _that's_ pretty much the arrangement I made with him."

"I would've helped him," Jasper scoffed, making Alec burst out with incredulous laughter.

"_Really_, Jas? Do you even remotely understand what it's going to be like living with him?" Alec pressed angrily. All Jasper ever did was bitch and moan at the slightest inconvenience and that was the _last_ thing Edward would need to live with. "He'll need help every time he has to take a leak, or get in and out of his wheelchair, or bathe, or dress. Could you really do all that shit for him without getting pissed off? Could you really sit at home, knowing you'd have more fun going out, just because you can't leave him there to fend for himself?"

"I..." Jasper trailed off, unable to answer.

"Yeah, I didn't think so," Alec seethed, gripping his steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. "You see, Jasper, while you've been sitting around only thinking about yourself and the problems _you're_ having, everyone else has beenthinking about helping your brother with _his_ problems. Even Emmett has stepped up to the plate by switching shifts so he and I are never working at the same time. One of us needs to be around _constantly_ to help your brother when he needs it, because let's be realistic, I love Bella and I think she's great and all, but she doesn't have a shot in _hell_ of being able to lift him out of that chair. She can't do it all on her own the way everyone's been letting her do lately."

Jasper sat in the passenger seat just stewing in his simmering anger. He was tired of people acting like he didn't give a shit, because he did. He wanted to help his brother, and he planned to be there for him as much as he could, but there were things in his own life that he needed to focus on as well. "You act like I don't give a damn at all, but if you haven't noticed, I've got a shit-ton of my own issues going on. My marriage is going down the shitter, I have no career anymore, no fucking money..."

"Oh boo-fucking-hoo!" Alec shouted. "Maybe if you could focus on someone other than _yourself _for five minutes your marriage wouldn't be swirling down the toilet, ever think about that? I won't even get into the career thing because if you can't get your head where it needs to be on the job, then you have no business being there and putting everyone else at risk. And as far as money goes, ya might have some now if you hadn't pissed every paycheck you've ever earned down the drain. Don't expect people to feel sorry for you because, face it, Jasper, the mess you're in right now is of your own making. If you don't like it, then clean it up, but for fuck's sake, don't bitch about it while you're doing it."

By the time the caravan pulled up to the front of the house, all three of the Cullen sons—and one Cullen baby boy—were in foul moods. Edward because it seemed like the _entire city_ was standing on his front lawn, waving ridiculous 'Welcome Home' signs around and cheering. The last thing he wanted was an audience watching him get lifted out of the car and dumped into his wheelchair. Jasper was still simmering in his post-argument anger, and Emmett had a migraine from Ian's colic-induced wailing.

Ian's first night home, just the night before Edward was due to be released from the hospital, had been Emmett's rather brutal introduction to new fatherhood. He'd spent the entire night rocking his fussy baby in his arms as he paced the lower level of his and Rosalie's townhome in a sleep deprived zombie-like state. It was the only thing that seemed to calm Ian's cries. By four am, a half hour after his last feeding, Emmett and Rosalie were in the ER, both severely distressed and exhausted. It only took the doctor a quick examination to give them a diagnosis of colic and suggest they try a different formula, but they still hadn't slept since—too worried and overwhelmed to be able to fall asleep.

"Tell me they're not all staying," Edward grumbled as Carlisle engaged the locks on his son's wheelchair.

"No," he chuckled. "I'm pretty sure it's just the welcome wagon. Okay, just like we practiced. You ready?"

"'Bout as ready as I'll ever be," Edward sighed, lifting his legs one at a time with his arms to turn toward his father. "Lift with your legs, old man, or you'll throw your back out."

"Just shut your pie-hole and leave your old man jokes in the car or I'll haul you out of there the old school way and _really_ make a spectacle out of this," Carlisle laughed as Edward wrapped his arms around his neck.

"You'd bust your ass and put us both in the hospital if you tried," Edward retorted just as Carlisle went to give a hefty heave and pull him from the car. Carlisle burst out laughing, losing his footing and almost falling forward into the car on top of his son.

"Quit pussyfooting around over there! We're hungry!" a familiar voice shouted, making Edward's gaze shoot over Carlisle's shoulder. About twenty feet away, Felix and his entire crew stood back by Alec and Emmett, all decked out in their uniformed blues next to the aerial ladder truck. He hadn't even heard the trucks pull up over all the commotion on his front lawn.

"You didn't think they'd miss your homecoming if they weren't on a call, did you?" Carlisle chuckled, tightening his hold and bracing himself to lift again. "On three, Edward. One...two..._three_."

With one hefty heave and a careful pivot, Edward was seated in his wheelchair with only a slightly pained grimace. His ribs and side were still tender and being hoisted only ever brought that soreness front and forward in his awareness, but at the very least, it was tolerable when compared to anything he'd experienced in his first few days after waking.

"Don't you guys have work to do?" Edward joked as he rolled himself toward his crew. As he was trading brotherly handshakes and fist bumps with his co-workers, he spotted Bella standing awkwardly next to the crowd on his front lawn, patiently waiting for his gaze to find her. As soon as it did, she smiled as she pointed at herself and toward his front door, silently telling him she was escaping the crowd and heading inside. He just chuckled under his breath as he nodded to her and watched her all but run for cover.

"Isn't that...?" Mike started and his eyes widened as realization set in. "Holy shit, it is! That's the girl from the fire!"

Alec's hand shot out and smacked the back of his head, _hard._ "Say it a little louder, asshole."

Completely unfazed, Mike turned his head toward Edward, grinning like a fool, "_Man_ she's hot! Tell me you're hittin' that naughty nurse style," he laughed, jokingly punching Edward in the shoulder, oblivious to the furious fire sparking in Edward's eyes.

"_Ugh_, you're disgusting. Someone should have you _neutered_," Jane groused, her face appearing as though she'd just tasted something foul as she stepped forward and leaned down to give Edward a hug. She kissed his cheek, laughing lightly at his expression when she pulled back. "Deep down somewhere I actually give a shit or two about you, otherwise I wouldn't be on my third shift in a row just to cover for my jackass brother so he could be here. You owe me big time as soon as you get your ass back into the station rotation where it belongs."

Edward wasn't sure what to make of her declaration, having never really seen eye to eye with her on _anything_, but he couldn't stop the grin from forming across his face. Maybe there was some hope for all of them yet if it was possible for someone to have chipped a block of ice off Jane's shoulder.

"Alright, we're on a time crunch here and I wasn't lyin' about us bein' hungry, so how 'bout you say hello to all these nice people out here so we can take this party inside, huh?" Felix chuckled, rubbing his stomach.

Edward sighed, looking over at the crowd watching him intently and nodded as he reached down to grasp the wheels of his chair. For the next half hour he shook hands, laughed uncomfortably, and said thank you more times than he could count—all the while wishing he could have escaped with as much ease as Bella had.

But as soon as his lawn had been cleared and his front door had shut behind him, the only thing he could think of was how good it felt to _finally_ be home.

* * *

**A/N****: Anyone else out there absolutely love the fall season, like I do? Sweaters, cool breezes, beautiful colors...**_**Halloween**_**. For all those out there who love to immerse themselves in the ghastly ghoulish themes of the season, I invite you to indulge in the "Countdown to Halloween II — On haunted Hallows Eve" Collaboration. **

**So here's the deal with the collab, 30 + authors got together and wrote Halloween themed one-shots; which will be posted daily as a countdown to the grand finale—one large collab story written by all the authors together. There's sure to be something for everyone to enjoy throughout the month: ghosts, vampires, hauntings...let's not forget lemons LOL, but to add to the fun of the event, each anonymous one-shot will contain hints to the author's identity. How well do you know your favorite authors? Think you can pick their writing out in a line-up? Think you can guess which one was written by little old me? **

**Come join us in our countdown to my most favorite of holidays!**

**www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/s/6326403/1/Countdown_to_Halloween_II_One_Haunted_Hallows_Eve**


	24. Chapter 23

Disclaimer: Twilight character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. All intellectual properties associated with _Through the Flames_ belong to SparklingTwilight. Plagiarism is theft. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization. Thank you.

* * *

A Small Reprieve

By quarter to nine, Edward's house had nearly cleared out, leaving Bella the chance to clean in a peaceful silence. Alice had tried to help, but Bella had all but pushed her out the door knowing she had to work a double shift the following day. Carlisle, Esme, and Jasper had taken care of all the decorations and trash outside before taking off for the night. Emmett, Rosalie and Ian had all fallen asleep on the living room couch sometime around seven, and after finding them, Bella had covered them with a blanket she'd found in the linen closet at the top of the stairs. They'd been so exhausted all day, and she'd felt so horrible for them that she couldn't bear the thought of waking them.

The only ones still awake were Edward and Alec, and both of them were in the backyard playing fetch with Tango and Cash. As Bella scrubbed dishes that wouldn't fit in the dishwasher, her gaze would occasionally drift to the window and she'd smile at the sight of the men laughing as the dogs tore off after the baseballs they threw. It warmed her heart to see Edward enjoying something other than the food she'd been sneaking in to him while he'd been in the hospital.

With the last of the dishes washed, dried, and put away, Bella quickly wiped down the counters and did a quick sweep through the downstairs of the house to make sure everything had been returned to its pristine condition. As she moved from room to room, she admired the home Edward had worked so hard to obtain. It really was a lovely home and she could tell how much care he put into it after seeing all the renovations he had told her he'd made since moving into it. It had taken him eight long years, but he'd remodeled nearly the entire house all on his own. The only room he hadn't yet tackled before the fateful night he nearly died, was the kitchen—and that was only because he was undecided on whether he wanted to go with a look that was sleek and polished or warm and inviting.

In the back of his mind, he'd always hoped that by the time he made it to that room he would have found someone to settle down with, and she could have chosen the kitchen _she_ would have liked to have. Unfortunately, when that time came, he hadn't even been casually dating anyone, much less getting ready to settle down with them. His excuse as to why he hadn't remodeled the kitchen yet was because he was undecided, but deep down, he knew he was just waiting for the right person to come along to finish the job—because much like how his home wouldn't be complete without her new kitchen, his life wouldn't be complete without _her_.

Satisfied that his house had been returned to its original state of tidiness, Bella picked up her half empty glass of iced tea and headed out onto the back deck. She silently slipped into one of the cushioned chairs and stretched her aching legs out in front of her. Her intent had been to relax for a few minutes while watching the guys play with the dogs before heading home for the night, but her plans had been quickly thwarted by Tango. No sooner than she had sat down did he come tearing up the ramp Carlisle and Charlie had built, and all but hopped right up into her lap.

"Tango, down! You're not a lapdog!" Edward laughed as he rolled himself across the lawn toward the ramp. "I swear he doesn't usually do that, he's normally pretty good about keeping at least two paws on the ground at all times."

"Ohh it's alright," Bella chuckled, grasping his face between her hands and giving him a playful rub. "He just knows a pushover human when he sees one, don't ya boy?"

Edward reached out to scratch Tango's back and smiled as Bella laughed when his back leg started thumping against the deck. When he pulled his hand away, he looked at Bella, still smiling, "If I haven't said it already, thank you for everything you did today. You didn't have to go through so much trouble."

Bella shrugged, smiling softly as she continued petting Tango, "It was a big day for you, and after everything you've been through recently...it just felt like something to celebrate, ya know? At any rate, it was worth it if you enjoyed yourself."

"I did, surprisingly very much so," he chuckled, shaking his head as he realized it was the first family gathering he'd been a part of in at least two years that he'd truthfully had a good time at, and he said as much. "It's not often I actually enjoy family gatherings. Most of them usually end with people arguing or my mother invites people I haven't seen since high school at the very least and it's just..._awkward_ to say the least."

"Well good, I'm glad," Bella smiled before looking down at her watch. It was already almost ten and she was exhausted. "I think it's about time for me to head home," she sighed, frowning slightly. "Do you need anything before I go?"

"Nah I'm good, but thanks. You sure you're okay to drive home? You look beat and there's a perfectly good bed upstairs if you'd rather just stay here," he offered, hoping she'd take him up on it. It was the least he could do after all she'd done for him that day.

"I'll be fine. I think it's only a ten or fifteen minute drive from here, tops," she replied as she rose from her chair. "I programmed the number to the home nursing service into your phone in case of an emergency, and I made up the sofa-bed in the den for Alec. Everything from the party's been cleaned up, and put away and your clothes from the last few days in the hospital are clean and folded...I left them on the foot of your bed in the den...I'm pretty sure that's it..." she trailed off, her nose crinkling as she tried to think if she was forgetting something.

Edward just stared at her, stunned and ashamed once again that he'd treated someone as caring and selfless as she was so harshly. He'd been a complete stranger to her the night their paths crossed, and yet, she'd treated him with nothing but kindness from the first moment he could remember waking to her gentle touch.

"Thank you...again," he nodded, unable to meet her gaze through his shame.

"You sure you don't need anything before I go? _Last call_," she teased, poking him in the shoulder.

He shook his head as he reached up to grasp her hand. His lips turned up into a half smile as his thumb caressed the back of her hand. "No...you've done too much for me as it is. Will you come back tomorrow?"

The pleading look in his smoldering green eyes, lit by the floodlights on the back of the house nearly knocked her breathless, rendering her only capable of nodding once as she bit her lip. And when he nodded back and lifted her hand to place a kiss against her knuckles, her knees nearly gave out.

"Text or call me when you get home so I know you made it safely, okay?" he asked, already worrying even though she hadn't yet left.

"I will," she smiled softly, turning to pick up her glass from the table. "See you tomorrow," she whispered as she hugged him gently.

"G'night, Bella," he sighed as he let her go.

Bella's thoughts spun dizzily as she slid the screen door shut behind her and made her way into the kitchen. His kissing her hand could have been nothing more than a gentlemanly show of gratitude, but she couldn't help but wonder if she'd been wrong. Maybe it was truly possible he could one day feel for her the way she was beginning to feel for him. It was such a small gesture, but it had given her hope.

Hope that could one day destroy her if she wasn't careful.

As she turned the corner of the counter, Bella froze upon seeing the statuesque form leaning against the sink, a swaddled baby in blue cradled in her arms and sucking on a bottle.

"I just need to put this in the sink and I'll be out of your way," Bella said quietly, dropping her gaze as she slowly approached the sink.

Rosalie wordlessly stepped to the side to give her room, but spoke just as Bella's arm stretched out to place the glass in the sink. "What you did for Edward today was nice...thank you. It's been a while since anyone's really done anything like that for him."

Bella wasn't sure what to say, or _do_ even, so she just nodded and gave her quick, tight lipped smile. Rosalie's abrupt change in demeanor toward her was—_surprising,_ to say the least.

"Did you...Would you like to hold him?" Rosalie asked, stammering slightly. She'd seen Bella smiling sadly at Emmett earlier in the afternoon as he held Ian while he fussed, and she'd felt horrible knowing Bella was keeping her distance from the baby out of respect for her when she truly didn't deserve it. Not after how despicably she'd treated her.

"Are you sure? I don't..." Bella trailed off, her eyes hesitantly meeting Rosalie's soft blue ones as her fingers twisted around each other nervously.

"I'm sure," Rose smiled, gently lowering Ian into Bella's awaiting arms.

"He's beautiful," Bella breathed through a smile, tears pricking at her eyes when he opened his big baby blues and looked at her.

"He is," Rosalie nodded, leaning back against the counter and watching the woman she'd once despised with every fiber of her being, marvel at her child—the best and purest part of herself.

"I was wrong about you," Rose paused, clearing her throat as Bella's gaze shot up to hers, her eyes darting back and forth nervously. Rose smiled abashedly and adjusted her footing before continuing, "I've spent a lot of time thinking about what you said to me outside Edward's hospital room...and you were right. The way I was acting was hurting him. And then Emmett told me about how you were there for him when he couldn't get a hold of anyone else in the family, and I got angry again because I couldn't figure you out. I get the whole wanting to help Edward because he risked everything to save you, but why Emmett? You don't owe him anything."

"Because he needed someone," Bella shrugged, her tone wary. She wasn't sure where Rosalie was headed, but she already knew Emmett most likely would have chosen any member of his family over her to be there for him. Even if Rosalie would be speaking the truth, Bella didn't need, or want, to have it pointed out to her in Rose's usual tactless fashion.

As her wariness escalated with the looming silence between them, Bella smiled softly down at Ian as she gently pulled the nearly empty bottle from his tiny, pouting lips. Thinking it was probably the last time she'd ever be allowed to hold him, she sighed softly to herself and pressed a tender kiss upon the warm soft skin of his forehead before gently passing him back to Rosalie.

"I can understand how you'd feel that my only reason for trying to help Edward is because I feel like I owe it to him, and maybe that was true in the beginning, but it isn't anymore. And I wasn't there for Emmett for any other reason than he needed someone, maybe not me, but _somebody_ because he was alone and scared out of his mind. I'm sorry if that doesn't answer anything for you, but it's the only answer I have to give."

Bella's words were honest and spoken with such tender sincerity that even Rosalie, who had constantly questioned her intentions from the very beginning, couldn't find it in herself to doubt the sincerity of her words.

"You really care...don't you?" Rose asked, her head tilting slightly to the side as her brow furrowed. Looking at the woman before her, stripped emotionally bare and unconcealed behind her usual mask of strength, Rosalie had to wonder if maybe, just maybe, if she had looked at her before and had really _seen_ her, if she would have realized sooner what she was just beginning to understand.

"I do," Bella answered simply, truthfully, and Rosalie nodded as she adjusted Ian in her arms and began patting his back.

"Listen, Bella, I'm sorry for how I've acted toward you. I can't promise that I'll always be the nicest person to you, because even I can admit that I'm rather difficult to get along with, but I will try. It's pretty obvious that Edward wants you around, and Emmett's rather fond of you as well so..." Rose trailed off, catching Edward's prying eyes through the mesh of the screen door, watching their interaction with a smile. He mouthed a silent "thank you" to her and she flicked her gaze back to Bella as he retreated back into the shadows on the back deck, "Just don't let me be the reason if you ever stop wanting to come around."

Bella wasn't sure just what to make of Rosalie's words as she neither clarified whether or not she still felt Bella was to blame for Edward's injuries, nor did she provide an inkling of hope for friendship on the horizon. She _had_, however, apologized for the coldness in which she'd been treated, and that was more than enough for Bella.

"I won't," she affirmed before reaching for her purse she'd left on the counter. "Um, Edward offered me the bed upstairs, but I'm heading home. You, Emmett and Ian should take it. You're both so exhausted, I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

"I probably will whether Edward likes it or not because Em sprawled out across the couch when I got up with the baby," Rose answered softly, resting her cheek upon Ian's head lightly.

Bella nodded, standing a few feet away as she pulled the strap of her purse upon her shoulder. "Have a good night, and thank you..." she paused, smiling at the bundle of blue in Rosalie's arms, "for letting me hold him."

"You're welcome—and Bella?" Rose called as Bella began to turn and head for the door. She turned to face her, curious and lacking the wariness she usually withheld when Rose spoke to her. "In case no one else mentioned it, Esme has a tradition of making an over the top spread for Sunday breakfasts. If you want in, make sure you come early because these guys don't leave much behind for late comers."

"I'll keep that in mind. Goodnight, Rosalie," Bella laughed with unexpected ease.

"Night."

Pulling into her driveway and sluggishly putting her car into park before turning the key in the ignition, Bella barely had the energy required to slide out of the car and shuffle her way up to her room. The golden glow cast from the porch lights was a welcoming sight, and one that reminded her of the love her parents had for her. It seemed such an unnecessary gesture, leaving the light on for her when they turned in, but it spoke volumes of the way she was in their every thought.

As she trekked up the walkway to the front door, she withdrew her phone from her purse and quickly sent off a text to Edward.

_Home safe and sound. - B_

She'd barely made it through the door before it jingled and vibrated in her pocket.

_Glad to hear it. See you at breakfast? - E_

She smiled to herself as she slowly climbed the stairs, too exhausted to move any faster, and sent him back a reply.

_I'll think about it. Sleepy time now. - B_

Bella silently shuffled her way into her room, cautious not to step on the one squeaky floorboard that would surely wake her parents as she traversed the hall to and from the bathroom while readying herself for bed. And as if he'd known the exact moment she'd slid into the bed and sank into the cloud soft comfort of her teenage years, her phone jingled and vibrated again with Edward's last message of the night.

_Sweet dreams, Bella. And thank you again for today. - E_

* * *

**A/N****: Have you all been keeping up with the Countdown to Halloween II — One Haunted Hallows Eve O/S collaboration? 13 one-shots posted so far, 18 left to go. How many authors have you recognized/matched to the clues? I gotta say, out of 13 I've only matched 9 so far LOL. Does anyone think mine's been posted yet? **

**Before I split I just want to say, you guys are all awesome. Some of the comments you leave have me smiling for days on end. Thank you for that ^_^ **


	25. Chapter 24

Disclaimer: Twilight character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. All intellectual properties associated with _Through the Flames_ belong to SparklingTwilight. Plagiarism is theft. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization. Thank you.

* * *

Sympathy vs Empathy

Nine am Monday morning, Bella was standing before Edward's front door. When Edward had asked her to accompany him to his first visit to the physical rehabilitation center, she hadn't had the lack of heart to deny his request even though she'd had previously made plans for that morning. She'd felt horrible canceling her brunch date with Claire and Emily from work, but when she'd vowed to herself to be there for him for whatever he may need, she'd done so wholeheartedly. It wasn't a vow she could break; not to him and not to herself.

Ringing the doorbell for the third time, she began to worry. Had everyone left him home alone and in a vulnerable position where he couldn't even access his wheelchair? Had something happened to him and he was back in the hospital? Had something happened to him and no one had been there to either help him or call for help?

Her heart was hammering against her chest as her eyes darted around the front of his house and her hand reached for the doorknob. She could see his truck in the garage and Alec's car had been parked along the curb in front of the house. Bella was just about to turn the knob to check if it was open, unable to tolerate the rising panic beginning to overwhelm her, when she heard Edward's voice shouting from deep within the house for her to come in.

"Edward? Where are you? Are you okay?" Bella nearly shouted as she briskly pushed the door shut behind her and began searching for him.

"In the kitchen...I'm fine," he answered, but his voice sounded strained; partly agitated and partly defeated. The sound of it sent a surge of worry through every cell of her body, making her drop her bag on the floor and take off down the hall toward the kitchen.

"What are..."

"Don't laugh," he mumbled, cutting off her bewildered questions and casting her a pitiful glance.

Bella's heart sank as she took in the scene before her. He'd obviously been trying to utilize the kitchen sink to wash his hair after giving himself a sponge bath. There was shampoo and water dripping all down his back and chest and soaking his nylon shorts, and his eyes were bloodshot, leading her to believe he'd gotten the soap in them as well.

"I won't...can I...will you let me help you?" she asked brokenheartedly, not wanting him to feel even worse over his situation. His shoulders sagged slightly, but he nodded with a defeated expression.

"It'll be okay, Edward," she said softly as she stepped forward, careful not to slip on the wet floor. She used the towel on the counter to gently wipe the soap suds away from his eyes before passing it over his torso and back.

"Do you have anything lying around that we can use to build you up a bit in the chair?"

"Phonebooks?" he asked, not sure if he actually had anything else around the house.

"That'll work."

After having him tell her where to find them, Bella came back with a few in her arms. She couldn't help but think it was a good thing he had great upper body strength because she wouldn't have known how to build him up if he hadn't been able to lift himself enough for her to slide the books beneath him. Once he was built up, Bella helped him arrange his chair so he was backed up against the sink as far as he could go.

"Lean back," she said, her voice warm and tender in his ears as her small hand gently pressed against his forehead. He did as she instructed and watched her as she worked above him, thankful it had been her that had found him and not Alec or anyone from his family. She looked down at him and smiled sadly as her fingers slid through his lathered hair, "Just tell me if it gets too uncomfortable, okay?"

He nodded as his eyes slid shut, the feeling of her fingertips massaging his scalp indescribably relaxing as warm water washed his first failed attempt at independence away.

"All done," she voiced just above a whisper as she brought the towel to his hair and guided his head back up. As she gently towel dried his hair, she quietly asked, "Edward, where's Alec?"

She wanted to ask him why he'd been left alone. She wanted to ask him why he hadn't waited to make his attempt until someone was at least there in case he needed help, but she didn't want him thinking she felt he was incompetent in any way. She couldn't even begin to imagine how hard it must be for him to have gone from being so independent to requiring so much assistance overnight.

"At work...he took Emmett's Jeep and left his car because it's easier to get me in and out of lower seats. And Em left with my father about an hour ago to run a few errands for me and pick up some groceries."

He was miserable and his tone betrayed his attempt to keep her from knowing just how deeply his condition was affecting him. It was only a little after nine in the morning and he wanted nothing more than to go back to bed and shut out the entire world right along with all of his problems. He'd never felt that way a day in his life; had never felt the lack of ambition to face the day ahead of him, but he was feeling it now, and in spades. Worst of all, he didn't know how to make it go away, or even subside just enough to feel capable of making it to the end of the day.

"Hey," Bella beckoned his attention softly as she squatted beside him and placed her hand over one of his own. "It'll get better. I know it's hard right now, but it'll get better."

As he looked down at her, her warm and tender gaze staring back up at him, he began to wonder if he would have been able to make it even this far through this ordeal without her. Thinking back to the long days he'd spent cooped up in his hospital rooms; the distress he'd suffered from the monotony, the helplessness he'd felt from being stuck in his bed, and the boredom that had nearly driven him mad—he wasn't sure he could have.

She'd kept him sane with just her presence alone. She'd made him laugh with ease when there was little about his surroundings or situation he found humorous, and she'd brought him comfort through the simplest of actions in ways that others had never been capable of.

Turning his hand beneath hers and covering it with his other hand, he looked at her gratefully, "If I never said it...I'm glad you're here—that you stuck around."

"Me, too," Bella smiled, giving his hand a slight squeeze. "Now how about I get those books out from under you and tidy up our mess while you go shave?"

Edward nodded and gripped the arms of his chair, bracing himself to push his dead weight off the stack of phonebooks. He felt bad for making such a mess and wished he could clean it up himself after the compassion she'd shown him. Had one of his brothers, or even Alec, walked in on him in such a state, they would never have let him live it down—but she hadn't even shown a hint of amusement at his expense. She hadn't looked at him with pity in her eyes either, instead, the only thing he'd seen in the warm depths of them had been his own heartache reflecting back at him.

"Bella?" he called, his voice weakened by the sorrow he felt for how much she did for him when there was little he could do for her in return. "Thank you."

"You know," she smirked, standing from the squatting position she'd been in as she toweled up the spilled water on the floor. "For someone who once told me they didn't want to be thanked for saving a life, you sure do a lot of thanking for things much less deserving of gratitude."

He tried not to smile, but it broke through along with a slight chuckle as he nodded, "Yeah, well...there hasn't been much in my life that's required me to say the words very often, so I may be a little...overzealous."

His words, though she'd long since suspected the truth of them, sent a pang of sadness through her heart for him, but before she could express her lack of need for him to thank her constantly, the front door opened. The sound of lively voices and rustling bags not only broke the moment of silence between them, but it also lifted the somberness that had permeated the air from the moment she'd stepped foot into the kitchen.

"I should go get ready," Edward commented, his entire body sagging right along with his spirits from the task that lay ahead. The simple act of getting dressed, an action that at one time in his life took little time and even less thought, now took forever and had to be approached methodically. It was taxing; not only on his emotions, but on his energy as well.

Bella watched him begin to roll himself toward the den and then turned to finish cleaning up the mess in the kitchen, not daring to ask him if he needed help because he'd suffered enough humiliation for one day in her presence. She didn't offer an explanation for the state of Edward's kitchen to his brother or father when they paused, arms weighed down with bags in the entryway, with questioning expressions. She merely bid them good morning with a smile and continued mopping up the suds and water with the towel, and when she was finished, she helped them put the groceries away.

"Is everything okay?" Carlisle asked worriedly after Emmett headed off to see if Edward needed anything. "Where'd all that water come from?"

"Everything's fine," Bella nodded. Feeling the need to protect Edward from further embarrassment, she laughed and said, "When I got here, Edward asked if I'd help him wash his hair. I'm apparently not cut out to be a salon shampoo girl though. I think I got more water out of the sink and on him than in his hair."

Carlisle's chuckle faded out into a sigh as he leaned against the counter, "Hopefully they'll have the new bathroom fully installed by tonight. I'm sure he'd enjoy being able to at least take care of that basic need on his own. I can't imagine how crazy it's driving him right now to need assistance for nearly everything when he's never really needed anyone for anything before."

Bella wanted to blurt out that _everyone_ needs someone sometime and that Edward isn't an exclusion to the rule. He may be strong and independent by nature, but even the strongest of mankind need a shoulder to lean on from time to time. The only difference between Edward and the rest of humanity was he didn't have very many people in his life willing to offer him their shoulder without expecting something in return. It angered her that his father, his own flesh and blood, could say something so inconceivably ignorant. Was he really that oblivious to the fact that his son was human, and thereby had been vulnerable to at least some miniscule degree prior to being injured?

She wanted to tell him just how wrong he was, but she didn't believe it would make a difference. He was perfect, untouchable, and virtually indestructible in their eyes and there was little she could say that would change that. But one glimpse at him as he rolled his way back into the kitchen area, the look on his face and the set of his shoulders screamed to her just how physically vulnerable and emotionally breakable he really was.

"Are you hungry? Do you want something to eat before we go?" she asked, focusing only on Edward and not at the aged and blind man across from her.

At his downcast eyes and minute headshake, Bella sighed and nodded as she pushed herself away from the counter and resisted the urge to scream at Carlisle to take a good long look at his son, because Edward was clearly _not_ the image of unshakable strength he'd mentally manifested.

"Can you give us a minute?" Bella asked, turning her gaze momentarily toward Carlisle. As soon as he retreated, Bella took the few steps toward Edward and knelt down before him.

"What's wrong?"

"I heard what you told him...You didn't have to do that. You could have just told him the truth," Edward replied, shaking his head and avoiding her gaze.

"Look at me...Edward, look at me, please," she urged gently and waited for him to comply. "What happened this morning was hard enough on you. There's no need for me to broadcast it and make it worse for you than it already was, but Edward, you don't have to be strong all the time. You don't have to pretend everything's fine when it isn't—not for me or anyone else. I'm here if you need help, whether it's to wash your hair or just to have someone to talk to when you're having a rough go of it."

"This is hard," Edward admitted, looking down at his hands in his lap as he nodded to himself. "I'm used to being the person everyone else asks for help, not the one needing it constantly...and I hate it."

"I know," Bella sighed, taking a hold of his hands. "But there's no shame in asking for it. Don't do this to yourself, Edward. Don't let your pride make it harder on you than it has to be. It killed me this morning when you told me not to laugh at you because I could never laugh at someone's struggles. I'm here for you if you need _anything_, and if I'm not physically here and it's something you're not comfortable asking someone else to help you with...just call me, okay?"

Edward remained silent for a span of moments as her words drove spears of guilt into him. She was constantly doing things for him; had spent nearly every day of the last almost two months of her life tending to his needs, his care—his _everything_. It wasn't right, and it wasn't fair to her.

With a lamenting sigh, he shook his head and looked at her dolefully, "This isn't right, Bella. You shouldn't be spending every single day acting as my indentured servant. You shouldn't be tidying my house or doing my laundry or cleaning up a mess _I_ made because I was sick and tired of not being able to do a damn thing for myself. It's selfish of me to keep allowing you to do this shit when you have _your own _life to live..."

"A life I _wouldn't have _if it weren't for you," Bella cut in sharply as she squeezed his hands. Her gaze softened as her voice took on a more gentle tone, "It's my choice to be here, Edward. The things I do for you, I do because I _want_ to, not because I _have _to. Let me worry about what I should and shouldn't be doing with my life. You have enough to worry about on your own."

As Edward looked down at her, taking in the warmth and compassion behind her eyes, he began to question if they'd just met on the street, just two normal people brought together by coincidence rather than dire circumstance, would she still have become such a vital part of his life. He was too far aware of how often he thought about her and craved her company to be able to deny just how important she'd become to him in such a short amount of time, but was it just because of his situation and the kindness she bestowed upon him, or was it just _her_ - the person she was deep within - that he'd become so endeared by.

He wasn't sure, but he wished the circumstances upon which their lives had become entangled had been different. Maybe then, if things in their lives had just been normal, trying to decipher what exactly it was that he was feeling wouldn't be so confusing.

"Now, are you hungry?" Bella asked after he silently nodded to her, accepting her desire to assist him because he wasn't sure he'd be able to manage without her. "We still have about twenty minutes before we have to leave."

"A little," he confessed quietly, still locked in her tender gaze and trapped in his confusing thoughts.

Bella sighed as she reached out to fix his medallion that rested backwards against the navy blue Tacoma F.D. t-shirt he was wearing, and allowed her hand to rest against where his heart beat strongly within his chest, "It'll get better, Edward. Just take it one day at a time."

By the time they were entering the physical rehabilitation center, Edward's downtrodden mood had lifted just enough to leave him feeling marginally capable of facing whatever his new therapist had in store for him. His earlier failed attempt at the once mundane task of bathing himself had really done a number on his motivational drive, but Bella's kindness and words of supportive encouragement had cast a ray of light into the darkness of his sullen mood.

Emmett had helped as well, in his own way, in bringing him out of the funk he seemed to have woken up in that morning. By enticing Edward's competitive side, Emmett had rekindled the withering flame of Edward's motivation to try even when his chances of full recovery seemed bleak at best.

"You can do this, bro. I _know_ you can," Emmett encouraged him enthusiastically as they took in the vast room that resembled nothing like what Edward had mentally envisioned. To him, it appeared as more of a gym; a wide array of exercise equipment staged sporadically about the wide open area they'd been lead to.

In one corner, a therapist was working with a patient on some stretching exercises - much like the ones his therapist in the hospital had worked with him on in his room. In front of a row of windows across the room from them, a man with a prosthetic leg was jogging on a treadmill. _Jogging_—the sight of him and his smooth strides was not only inspiring to Edward, but it sparked a ray of hope within him as well.

"Oh my..._no way_! It can't be..." Bella suddenly gasped, making Edward's head shoot to the left. "Seth?"

Before he could even figure out what was going on, Bella had dropped her purse and was running full sprint, her squeal trailing behind her as she launched herself at a copper-toned man with a grin just as wide as hers had been.

"Think she knows him?" Emmett chuckled, highly amused.

"I'd hope so...it'd be kind of strange if that was how she greeted random strangers, wouldn't it?" Edward sniggered, watching the man sway her from side to side as her legs dangled in the air, both of them laughing together. When he released her, they spoke animatedly for just a minute or two before she clasped her hand around his and led him back toward Edward and Emmett.

"Sorry about that...I'm not usually so excitable, but I haven't seen this big guy in..._gosh_, almost six years now?" Bella rambled, slightly out of breath; her face flushed and smile brilliant as she looked up at him.

"Just about," he chuckled, nodding at her. "Not since the summer you and...yeah, anyway. It's been a while." After inexpertly dodging the subject, he held out his hand, "Seth Clearwater, nice to meet you. I was actually just getting some things set up for you when I nearly got trampled by a blast from the past."

"Edward Cullen," Edward nodded, laughing under his breath as he shook it politely. "And this is my brother Emmett."

"So you grew up together, or...?" Emmett asked confusedly, trailing off as Edward backhanded him in the stomach for being rude.

"Kind of," Seth answered vaguely, looking to Bella questioningly. He wasn't sure how much of their history to divulge without making her uncomfortable. Things between she and Jake hadn't ended all that amicably, and Seth hadn't seen or heard from her since.

Bella rolled her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips. She'd long since gotten over the events that had taken place her first trip home for summer vacation from college. "I dated his cousin, Jacob, in high school but we'd been best friends since like the second grade before that. Long story short, Seth and I spent a lot of time together during our adolescent years because he and his sister lived with Jacob's family."

Seth grinned as he looked down at his watch and then clapped his hands together, "As much as I'd love to spend the next few hours catching up, we're officially on your dime. Are you ready to get started?"

"'Bout as ready as I'll ever be, I suppose," Edward shrugged. "Is it okay if they stay?"

"Absolutely. We'll actually be covering some exercises today that they can help you with at home, so being here will be beneficial for all of you," Seth said as he squatted down to the ground. "Before we start, I just want to give you a little overview of what you can expect during your time here."

At Edward's nod, Seth continued, "Our program is exercise based, as you can probably tell, and for your injury, you and I will be working our ways through five phases. The first and second, reactivation and development, go hand in hand. Our goal in these phases will be to stimulate your nervous system and begin retraining your motor responses by manipulating the affected parts of your body, namely your hips and legs."

"They started that in the hospital," Edward nodded and Seth grinned in response.

"That's great. The earlier rehabilitation is started, the better. Have you experienced any changes in your condition between when they began working with you and now?"

"A little. I have a lot more sensation in my legs than I had initially, but it hasn't fully returned."

"What about any movement abilities?"

"Don't you have all this in a medical file somewhere?" Edward asked curiously.

"Yep, it's in the office, but I prefer learning about the people I work with through them rather than through someone else's clinical observations. It's less..._impersonal_," Seth shrugged.

And in that moment, Edward decided he liked Seth. Working with him didn't seem as though it would be as tenuous as it had been working with the people in the hospital and he began truly looking forward to it.

They spent the next twenty minutes covering Edward's abilities - which had progressed from being able to wiggle the toes of his right foot to being able to somewhat flex the ankle - and the other three phases of the program; strength, function and coordination, and gait training.

"Well, Edward, I only have one thing left to say before we get started. Everyone that comes here has different goals in mind, different expectations of what they wish to achieve. I believe that the majority of someone's ability to recover lies within how much they want it and how hard they're willing to push themselves to get there. My only goal is to help you reach yours, so what's yours?"

Edward's chest tightened as his eyes flicked from Seth to his brother, to Bella, and then panned the room where the fight of his life would occur before returning back to Seth, blazing with determination.

"I want to walk again."

Seth laughed, admiring the strength behind Edward's words, as he rose from his squatting position on the floor and clapped him on the shoulder.

"Now _that's_ what I like to hear. Let's get to work."


	26. Chapter 25

Disclaimer: Twilight character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. All intellectual properties associated with _Through the Flames_ belong to SparklingTwilight. Plagiarism is theft. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization. Thank you.

* * *

A Very Unhappy Birthday

The first week and a half of September was encompassed by some of the most tiring days Bella could ever remember. Her days had been filled with accompanying Edward to doctor visits, physical therapy sessions, cooking meals for the both of them and any company that had come to visit him, and assisting him around the house. It wasn't the work that wore her down, but his frustration when he tried and failed to do something for himself, or when he was just having an off day.

Unfortunately, most days of late had seemed to be off days to her.

On more than one occasion he'd barked at her, unleashing a side of himself that his brothers were all too accustomed to but she, herself, had never really witnessed in full force before. It was difficult for her to bear the brunt of, but she'd managed each time to keep her calm composure long enough for Edward to acknowledge his unfair behavior and apologize.

And apologize he did. Shamefully, sincerely, and relentlessly.

But on the morning of the thirteenth when she failed to show between eight and nine am as he'd been accustomed to, he worried his recent tumultuous temper had finally driven her away. All morning long he sat in his wheelchair, staring at a television he wasn't really watching, and lamenting to himself.

At nine thirty, Samantha, the home health aide that Edward couldn't stand, arrived. She always laughed too much, and not in an attractive or endearing way, and had this annoying habit of flipping her hair over her shoulder every ten seconds. He would usually interact with her just enough to pass as being polite, but that morning, his mind and manners were elsewhere as he blatantly ignored her while she tended to the dressing on the side of his chest where his chest tube had been. He hadn't been home a full four days before he'd had a major mishap and ripped open the incision the very first time he took a real shower.

It had been mortifying enough for him allowing Bella to shave part of his leg so the tape she used to secure the garbage bag around his cast with wouldn't hurt like the devil when he ripped it off. And worse yet had been his father helping him into the new handicapped accessible shower stall while wearing nothing more than a towel wrapped and tucked around his waist. But then, in a series of cataclysmic events, he'd gotten shampoo in his eye and dropped his washcloth, and upon attempting to retrieve it, had fallen off the sitting perch and landed hard on his left side—right against the two-inch raised edge of the shower floor.

Before he could even wrap his own head around what had happened, three people, including Bella, were in the bathroom and lifting him off the floor. Fully nude and his side covered in blood from his torn stitches, Edward's mortification soared to new and inconceivable heights.

That was the first day he'd snapped at her.

When his mother stopped by to make him some lunch, he glanced at the plate and resumed staring apathetically at the television. After futilely attempting to coax him into eating, Esme helplessly looked to Alec who could offer her no more than an unknowledgeable shrug as he told her he'd been like that all morning.

The truth was, he'd been like that since the previous night after snapping at Bella for hurting him when she was changing the dressing on his side. It wasn't healing the way it should after the damage he'd done to it, and the bandage had clung to the forming scar tissue—not that that was any of her fault, but she'd borne the brunt of his irritation. He'd apologized afterward, of course, but even Alec could tell that Edward's outbursts were beginning to wear her down when she'd left shortly afterward.

It hadn't come as a surprise to him that she hadn't called him yet, but he kept his thoughts to himself on the matter. Edward was a grown man. He was smart enough to learn from his own mistakes, and, as far as he was concerned, Bella deserved a vacation day away from Edward's turbulent mood swings.

Out on Commencement Bay with her parents, Bella checked her phone for the thousandth time that day as her father's boat rocked and swayed on the tidal crests and troughs. Seeing once again that she had no missed calls or texts, Bella contemplated calling him, just as she'd contemplated it each and every other time she'd checked her phone. She wasn't sure if she was more hurt or angry that he couldn't even call her to wish her a happy birthday, but he could call her for anything else under the sun. A simple text would have been just fine in her opinion, but she hadn't even received that much.

"He's fine, Bella," her father chuckled as he reeled in his line. "Everyone knew you wouldn't be there today. I'm sure they're all driving him insane with attention...unless you're expecting a call from some other important person I'm missing out on?"

Bella smiled weakly at her father's teasing grin and hopeful insinuation and shook her head, "Nope." Her answer was simple, but it sent a dagger through her heart. She shouldn't be expecting a call from anyone important, because apparently, she wasn't as important to them as she'd begun to hope and believe.

Looking out across the choppy waters, Bella began to think maybe it was time for her to lay her hopes of she and Edward ever becoming true friends to rest once and for all, because this—_thing_ that they had wasn't friendship in the least. Friendship was based on mutual give and take, and with them, Bella was always giving and Edward was always taking. There was no equality; it was entirely one-sided, and by god, it _hurt._

At seeing her crestfallen expression and saddened eyes turn out toward the vast open water, Charlie turned to look questioningly at Renee, worried something major had slipped by beneath his watchful eye. He'd always paid close attention to the happenings in his daughter's life, always known when and, more importantly, _why_ something was bothering her. And whenever it was in his power to do so, he fixed it so she could return to being the happy person she usually was. The person he wanted her to alwaysbe.

"What happened?" he mouthed to his wife. She cringed slightly, casting her daughter a worried glance before looking back at Charlie and mouthing, "Edward didn't call," back as she shook her head and used her hand to simulate a phone beside her ear.

Charlie released a sighing breath before dropping his fishing pole's handle into the built in holder on the ledge, crossing the deck to Bella, and squatting down beside her. "I'm sure Edward has a reason for not calling, honey."

He wasn't sure if his words were true, but he hoped and prayed they were because he genuinely liked the kid. If he was honest with himself, he was hoping they might, one day, find something greater than friendship between them once they overcame their current hardship. It wasn't even just Edward's anymore, in his opinion, as his daughter had stood beside him through every moment she'd been able to, and had suffered right along with him each time he'd struggled in coping with his injuries. Her heart broke and her spirits fell every time Edward's did. Charlie wouldn't have wished the circumstances upon which they'd met on anyone, but even in the darkness of their current trying times, he could see that they could be good for one another.

When she did no more than nod while toying with her line between her fingers, Charlie sighed and reached out to smooth his hand over her hair, "If it bothers you so much, why don't you just call him?"

"Why?" she asked, her hurt eyes darting to his and taking his breath away. "Why should I have to call him when I do _everything__else_ for him? I know it sounds petulant, but is it really _that_ hard for him to pick up a phone for something other than asking me to do something for him or bring him something? It's messed up, Dad. I do everything I can for him; I cook, I clean, I try to encourage him and keep his spirits up when he's having a cruddy day, and I'm constantly swallowing the bitter pills of his frustrated outbursts. I feel more like the paid help who isn't getting paid than his friend."

"Honey...if that's the way you feel, then maybe it's time for you to walk away."

"I can't..." Bella breathed, shaking her head. "You don't see what I do every day, Dad. No one _sees_ how hard he pushes himself and how much it hurts him when he suffers a setback. If I walk away...what'll happen to him? His family can't even see his internal struggle as it is because they all believe his determination is infallible when it's _not_. When he reaches his breaking point and shatters, how will they help him put himself back together?"

Charlie looked at her and his heart broke for her. It was so obvious in that moment, but he asked anyway, "You care for him, don't you?"

She nodded, feeling incredibly fatuous for allowing herself to believe in the possibility of something so downright impossible, "Obviously more than he does me."

"Bella, just because he forgot to call and wish you a birthday doesn't mean he doesn't think of you as a friend," Renee said sadly. "Did your father ever tell you that he forgot my birthday every year for the first five years we were together? Or that he forgot our anniversary for the first two years we were married?"

"Did you really?" Bella chuckled faintly at her father's shamed grimace.

"I did, and I probably would have continued to forget both if she hadn't thrown me out the front door and locked me out in a pregnancy hormone induced rage," he replied humorously. His smile, however, faded as he saw the hurt still lingering in her eyes. "But, Bella, my forgetting the importance of those dates didn't mean I didn't care. I just wasn't always that great at remembering the days I'm required by _estrogen law _to remind her of how special she is to me because she may have forgotten at some point during the other three-hundred and sixty-three days of the year. In my defense though, I always remembered Christmas, Valentine's Day, and Mother's Day once you came along."

"That's so not true! You forgot Valentine's Day one year, too," Renee laughed, slapping him on the shoulder.

"I did not," Charlie rebuked. "You just didn't like your gift."

"_Charles Swan_, I hardly considered you in your skivvies a gift when we were teenagers, and putting a bow on them in your thirties didn't change that opinion much..."

"Eww! Eww! Stop or I _swear_ I'll go deaf! And possibly _blind_ when I have a nightmare from that!" Bella wailed, dropping her fishing pole to cover her ears.

"Okay, okay," Charlie chuckled, pulling her hands away from her ears. "All we're trying to say is don't jump to conclusions that probably aren't true. He could just be as horrible as I was at remembering things like that...doesn't necessarily mean he doesn't care."

"Dad," Bella sighed, slumping down into her folding chair. "He hasn't called _at all_, not even to just shoot the breeze like he used to do on the rare occasions I was doing something _other_ than hanging out at the hospital..."

"And maybe there's a reason for that, Bella. Your life may be revolving around him right now, but honey, right now...his life is only revolving around his injuries, and that might sometimes make it hard for you to feel like you're more than just a bystander."

Bella nodded as she looked down at her lap, her father's words striking a cord of truth within her that she'd failed to acknowledge before he'd spoken them. The imbalance in their... _relationship_ - for lack of a suitable term at the moment - still hurt, but she felt if she could just get clarification on what role, exactly, it was that he wanted her to play in his life, maybe it wouldn't hurt _as much_.

She believed she could withstand having her feelings hurt from time to time if she knew, deep down, that even when he didn't act like it, that he truly counted her as a real friend. She even believed that she could manage just being the person in his life that he didn't count as a true friend, but needed for mental and emotional support until he made it to the end of his recovery journey. Bella had, for a long time prior to their life paths crossing, believed that some people are only meant to be a part of each other's lives temporarily. She could handle that, if that's what he really wanted or needed.

What she _couldn't_ handle was the constant oscillation between the two role distinctions she felt at the hand of his mercurial behavior.

"What you're doing...wanting to be his friend and trying to help him, is admirable, Bella, and I'm proud of you for being the kind of person that's capable of putting someone else before yourself. That's not something that many people possess," Charlie smiled as he stood and leaned down to kiss the top of Bella's head.

"Cut the kid some slack, kiddo, but for shit's sake, put your damn foot down the next time he takes his aggravation out on you or I'll put my foot up his ass, understood?"

"_Dad_," Bella laughed, shocked, as Charlie grabbed his fishing pole and began baiting its hook.

"What?" he chuckled, throwing a wink at her as Renee's hand caressed his back momentarily as she passed by him. "I like the kid, I do. I happen to think he's a pretty honorable and decent man, but you're my kid and I won't hesitate to put him in his place if I hear he acts that way toward you again. Wheelchair or no wheelchair, I don't discriminate when it comes to someone hurting my little girl."

As Bella re-baited her hook and cast her line back out into the water, she smiled genuinely for nearly the first time all day; amused beyond reason at her father's overprotective tendencies. With some of the emotional clouds that had turned her day gloomy cleared away, Bella resumed fishing and began to truly enjoy the day for what it was and not wallowing over what she wished it could have been.

Back in Tacoma, Alec stood like a sentry in the kitchen, leaning against the counter as he watched Edward unenthusiastically throw baseballs across the yard for the dogs. His mood hadn't improved even by a single degree since earlier that morning—in fact, if anything, it had gotten worse as the day had progressed.

Alec understood and sympathized with Edward's daily struggles, but over the last few days, it had begun to seem as though his friend was starting to live beneath a perpetual rain cloud of doom and gloom. While he was no stranger to Edward's short tempered tendencies to lash out when something was causing him extreme duress, his recent brooding and sullen behavior was entirely foreign. For as long as Alec had known him, Edward's method of operation had been to keep everything under a tight seal until he exploded—and then move on as if nothing had ever happened.

His friend was changing right before his eyes, and he didn't like it. Not one bit.

Alec downed the rest of his beer and grabbed two fresh ones from the fridge before heading outside. He stepped out onto the deck and shut the screen door behind him. Walking up to stand beside Edward, he held the bottle out in his direction and then dragged a chair over to settle in for what was sure to be an unpleasant chat.

"You gonna open it?" he asked, twisting off the cap of his own.

"Can't drink it, so what's the point of opening it," Edward muttered, turning the bottle in his hands. "Just one more thing on an endless list of shit I can't do."

"Fine," Alec sighed, reaching over to grab the bottle. "Are you gonna talk about whatever bug crawled up your ass and died between last night and this morning, or are you just gonna keep moping? Because it's getting really old to watch, if you ask me."

"I've been that bad, huh?" Edward asked, chuckling humorlessly beneath his breath as he shook his head.

"Ed, man..._bad_ for you is sleeping off whatever's bothering you. _This_," Alec stressed, gesturing toward him, "You sitting around acting all woe is me, I have no definition for because it's _not you_."

Edward nodded, unable to refute the claim because even he was aware that he'd been acting completely out of character all day. It wasn't like him to stew in self-pity the way he'd been doing as of late with increasing frequency, and it was _entirely _unlike him to waste an full day doing it.

"So what is it, bro? What's got you in this unshakable..._funk_?"

"Bella...she finally had enough of my shit and bailed out...and I don't blame her one bit," Edward admitted, picking at the worn and torn hem of his favorite _Big Dog_ firefighter hooded sweatshirt.

"I'm not gonna lie, you have been acting like a prick to her lately," Alec nodded, pausing to take a swig of his beer. "But what makes you think she bailed out?"

"It's kind of obvious, man," Edward scoffed. "She's not here and she hasn't called or anything all day. I fucked up...big time."

"Oh, wow," Alec laughed incredulously. "So you're all pissy and sulking because she's not here hanging out with you for once?"

"Nice...I run the girl off and you laugh," Edward grumbled, turning his head away from his laughing friend.

"She didn't _run_ anywhere, and if you wanted to spend her birthday with her so damn badly, all you had to do was accept her invitation instead of biting the poor girl's head off."

Alec had never felt worse for someone than he did for her that day. Seeing the tears she was trying to fight back in her eyes as she walked away from his explosion—it damn near killed him. If it hadn't been for Edward's immediate remorse and chase to apologize to her, Alec probably would have thrown him out of his wheelchair and beaten him to a bloody pulp.

"What?" Edward balked.

"She's with her parents out on their boat, fishing," Alec clarified. "They go out every year for her birthday. She asked you a week ago if you wanted to go but you wigged out on her because apparently it's _impossible _for _cripples _to get onboard boats—never mind the fact that they make ramps to do specifically just that."

"_Shit_...that was today? Her birthday's _today_?" Edward sputtered, wide-eyed. He couldn't believe he'd forgotten her birthday, of all days, when it had been mentioned at least a dozen times in passing over the last week.

"Yeah, maybe if you'd pull your head from your ass once in a while you could save yourself, and her, from all this unnecessary emo-bullshit," Alec replied bluntly, quirking a brow at him as he lifted his beer bottle back up to his lips.

"Goddamn..." Edward groaned, pulling his hands across the top of his head and down his face. "Can I possibly be any bigger of an ass?"

"Probably, especially if you keep going the way you have been," Alec shrugged. "Which I'm telling you right now, I'm not standing for anymore. She doesn't deserve that kind of shit from you...not after everything she's done for you and your entire damn family."

Edward's head snapped to the left, his eyes narrowing as he spoke through clenched teeth, "I get it, _dick_. I've been a shitty friend."

"No, you _don't _get it, Edward," Alec's eyes blazed. As he continued to seethe, his arm shot out to the side, his finger pulling away from the bottle in his hand to point in an aimless direction, "That girl has walked out of here in _tears_ almost every night for the last solid week. When I haven't had to witness it firsthand, I've had to hear about it from Emmett. _Emmett_ for fuck's sake! Emmett who up until you were in a goddamn _coma_ couldn't give a shit less about anyone other than himself or his wife."

Unable to cool his sudden boiling rage, Alec stood and picked up the spare full beer off the deck floor. "You call yourself her friend, Edward? I've seen you treat your _enemies_ with less hostility than you've been treating her with. It's a goddamn miracle she hangs around here at all."

The slamming of the screen door in the wake of Alec's heated departure made Edward jump. He and Alec had had their fair share of quarrels over the years, but he'd never been on the receiving end of that degree of his fury. He'd witnessed it aimed at others, but had never experienced it himself. He'd never _earned _it before, and he couldn't deny that he deserved it now.

Edward stared across the yard as he tried to calculate just how many times he'd snapped at her since he'd come home from the hospital, but he found himself incapable of doing so. He could vividly remember the first in the aftermath of his extreme mortification, but other incidents seemed to blend together with such obscurity that he couldn't differentiate them well enough to count them as separate occurrences.

In the end, after giving himself the start of a massive migraine, the only conclusion he could come to was that he'd become his own worst nightmare; a person so self-absorbed he couldn't even see the hurt he was causing to those around him who least deserved it.

"Edward?"

His torso spun toward the timid voice beckoning him with speed that left him momentarily dizzy, and her name fell from his lips on an expelled breath, "_Bella_..."

"What are you doing here?" he asked, surprise coloring his tone. Wariness began to seep into his skin as he took in her anxious eyes and nervous fidgeting while watching her hesitant steps approach him.

"Um...I..." she stammered, her nerves wreaking havoc on her vocal abilities. "I came because I need to talk to you...Alec let me in and, um...told me to tell you Jasper's on his way over and that he's sleeping at the station tonight."

He watched the way she debated whether or not she should sit in the chair Alec had abandoned with guilt searing him from the inside out. _He'd _done that to her; his actions and misguided anger had made her unsure and _clearly _uncomfortable in his presence.

"Is everything okay? Did something happen?" she asked worriedly while reluctantly lowering herself down into the chair angled toward him.

"Nothing that wasn't long overdue..." he trailed off as she nodded and looked around nervously. "I'm sorry I didn't call or anything to wish you a happy birthday...I kind of...forgot it was today. I was just about to head in and call you when you showed up."

"It's fine, don't worry about it," she smiled halfheartedly.

"You said you needed to talk to me about something?" Edward prompted, something pulling at and twisting his gut as his wariness grew with her increasing fidgeting.

"Um...yeah," she stammered as her leg began bouncing rapidly. "I...Edward, I can't keep doing this...whatever _this _is," she gestured between them. "I just...I need to know what it is that I am to you."

As soon as she'd managed to get the words out there, her leg ceased its anxious movement, but her fingers continued to fumble with her keys. It had taken her a full hour to work up the courage just to bring herself to his doorstep with the intent of settling her confusion on the matter. She'd thought that getting it out there would ease some of the anxiety she'd felt over confronting the issue, but it really hadn't. The only thing that had calmed her even slightly was his bewildered look.

"What kind of question is that? You're my friend, Bella..."

"Am I really?" she asked skeptically. "Because sometimes...a lot of the time, it doesn't feel that way."

"I'm sorry for that. I know I've been..._intolerable_ lately. And I really am sorry I forgot to call you today."

"This isn't about my birthday..."

"I swear I was just getting ready to head in to call you..."

"Edward, this isn't about my birthday..."

"If it wouldn't have skipped my mind I would have gotten you a gift..."

"_Darn it, _Edward!" she wailed as she stood from the chair, exasperated with the way they were doing nothing but speaking over one another. "This isn't about _my__birthday_. I don't _care_ about my stupid birthday, and I didn't want a gift. I wantedyou to come with us, but apparently if it isn't something _you _want or need, then it's inconsequential." Her eyes filled with tears as she realized just how inconsequential what few things she wanted or needed from him really were. "_That's _what this is about, Edward. _That's_ why I had to ask what I am to you, because for the _life of me_ I couldn't answer that question for myself with how one-sided this...this..._thing_ between us is."

"Bella, it's not like that..." he trailed off, his heart plummeting into his stomach at the sight of a tear escaping her eye and speeding down her cheek.

"Really? Then how is it, Edward?" she asked, her voice quivering. "Tell me how it is if I'm wrong." She waited for him to answer, but he found himself unable to because, from her perspective, that's _exactly_ how it seemed—and it made his stomach churn.

Bella sighed, rubbing her forehead as every ounce of fight drained from her body. "I can't keep doing this, Edward. I can't keep _wanting_ and _trying_ to be your friend but keep getting stuck feeling like I'm just an...I don't know...that I'm just _convenient_ for you to have around. I can be your friend or I can try to be just the temporary unpaid help...but I can't be both. So _please_, do us both a favor and figure out which one it _really_ is you want me to be."

Unlike Alec's slamming of the screen door when he'd walked away from Edward, the only sounds that accompanied Bella's departure were the soft thuds of her sneakers on the wooden deck floor and the gentle _whoosh_ of the screen door sliding in its frame. Edward wasn't sure which was more expressive of what the person was feeling when they had walked through that doorway, but he knew which one made a white hot flare of pain shoot through his chest and spear his heart.

He almost wished she would have slammed it on her way out, too, because anger he could handle. Anger he could remedy, but he didn't have the slightest clue how to undo the anguish he'd caused her to feel.

Edward's head was throbbing, his migraine beginning to pound and thrash against his skull, but the pain in his heart for how despicably he'd treated someone who owed him nothing, but gave him _everything_, eclipsed it entirely.

As he wheeled himself inside, his gaze flicked to his phone sitting on the desk in the corner of the den, and for a moment, he debated calling Bella. With a sigh, he told himself he'd call her in the morning. He knew all too well she needed some time away from him, as he even felt he could use a day or two away from himself. Unfortunately, he didn't have that luxury—stuck with himself and his remorseful, despairing thoughts as he was.

The house was too silent; too empty—absent of the warm voice and presence he'd grown so fond of over the last month since he'd regained consciousness. The silence bothered him, but his head was throbbing too badly to even contemplate turning on the television just to have background noise filling the empty void. In truth, the only thing he really wanted was to shower and go to bed; to start fresh in the morning and try to regain what parts of himself he'd lost over the last few weeks.

Edward wheeled himself around the den, grabbing a pair of sleep shorts and a t-shirt before heading into the bathroom. While it took three times as long with no one helping him, he managed to get his cast covered and taped the way Bella usually did for him and set himself up in his shower stall with only mild difficulty. He'd been working with Seth for the last week and a half, learning how to get in and out of his wheelchair on his own. Maneuvering his entire body on his own took all of the upper body strength he had, but in trade, he was granted a slight sliver of independence—and that, in and of itself, meant the world to Edward.

As he sat on the bench in his shower, with the water pelting down on him, Bella's and Alec's words began to batter his mind from all sides.

_"You sitting around acting all woe is me, I have no definition for because it's not you."_

"_If it isn't something you want or need, then it's inconsequential."_

"_She doesn't deserve that kind of shit from you."_

"_I can't keep doing this, Edward...I'm just convenient for you to have around."_

"_I've seen you treat your enemies with less hostility."_

"_Do us both a favor and figure out which one it really is you want me to be." _

"_If you'd pull your head from your ass once in a while you could save yourself."_

By the time he'd finished showering and getting himself settled back into his wheelchair, his migraine had fully set in, making the artificial light in the bathroom suddenly seem blinding. Knowing laying down in a fully reclined position would only make his migraine that much worse, Edward grabbed his pillow off his bed in the den and snatched the throw blanket off the couch before rolling himself over to the recliner. After depositing them into the chair, he made his way into the kitchen in search of some Aspirin - or if he was lucky, the last remaining pills in his bulk sized bottle of Excedrin_. _

He'd just tossed back his last three pills and was replacing the bottle of water in the fridge when he heard the front door open and close, _hard_. The obnoxious slam was followed directly by his brother's voice booming through the hall, sending what felt like shards of shrapnel through his brain, "Yo, Eddie! Where ya at?"

"Kitchen," he called back, rubbing circles into his temples. As soon as Jasper turned the corner, Edward dropped his hands and looked up at him. "Listen, I have a migraine from hell and I've had about the shittiest day in my entire life so, please, I'm begging you...I don't care what you do tonight, but try to keep the noise level down to a minimum, okay?"

"That's cool," Jasper shrugged. "You care if I snag the PS3 and bring it upstairs?"

"No...by all means, have at it," Edward sighed, relieved.

Two hours later, Edward found himself staring at the ceiling; his headache dissipating slowly in the near silence, but completely unable to fall asleep. His fingers, gripping the medallion Bella had given him, slid the pendant back and forth across the chain as his other hand rolled his cell phone around repeatedly.

His mind had cleared and he knew what he wanted. What he wanted had never been a question he'd needed to search for an answer to, because he'd known the answer all along. What he _didn't _know, however, was how to go about _earning _it. But come morning, he was determined to find a way to begin setting things right, because he was sick and tired of them being wrong.

Flipping open his phone, he tapped out a quick message to Bella before closing his eyes and hoping he hadn't damaged their relationship beyond repair.

**When it comes to being a friend, you've always been one to me. If you can forgive me, I'd like to be one to you. I'm sorry. Happy Birthday, Bella - E **

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**A/N****: I'm sooo sorry for the lack of teaser replies for last chapter. With my work schedule getting more chaotic by the week, the holidays coming up around the corner, studying to take my CT registry, trying to write as much and as often as I can, and dealing with the crazy that is my family...I just don't have the time I need to be able to send out such large numbers of individual teasers. You guys really blow me away with your responses, and I wish I had the amount of time I used to have to be able to reply to each and every one of you. **

**Sadly, because of my lack of free time, from now on teasers will be posted both on the Twilighted forum, and on ADF's weekly Sneak Peek campfires:**

**www(dot)twilighted(dot)net/forum/viewtopic(dot)php?f=44&t=9613&st=0&sk=t&sd=a&sid=&start=670**

**www(dot)adifferentforest(dot)com**

**If you don't follow me already on Twitter, you can follow me here: twitter(dot)com/SprklngTwilight : and I'll tweet a link to the teasers as soon as they go up. **

**Thank you guys so much for all the love and support you show this story! I'll see ya'll soon! Much love ~Jersey**


	27. Chapter 26

Disclaimer: Twilight character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. All intellectual properties associated with _Through the Flames_ belong to SparklingTwilight. Plagiarism is theft. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization. Thank you.

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A Turning of the Tables

On the morning of the fourteenth, the morning after her twenty-fifth birthday, Bella awoke to both Edward's text message, and a strange tightness in her chest. When she'd returned home the night before, she'd cried herself into a restless sleep quickly, exhausted from spending the entire day out on the water, but more so from her confrontation with Edward. Her hand rose to rub against her chest as she tried to cough and clear her air passages. It wasn't uncommon for her chest to feel slightly congested when she first woke in the morning, but the tightness she felt that morning was something altogether different than anything she'd become accustomed to. What was worse was that her sleep shirt was drenched in sweat.

As her coughing persisted, Renee and Charlie, seated at the kitchen table, reading the paper and enjoying their morning coffee together, both turned their concerned gazes toward the ceiling. At the faint sound of their daughter's voice rasping, "_Mom_," Charlie and Renee were out of their chairs and heading toward the stairwell; their early morning coffee swaying within the abandoned mugs and papers sliding off the edges of the table and onto the floor in their wake.

"Honey, what is it?" Renee asked breathlessly as she crouched slightly to get a good look at her daughter.

"I don't feel well...my chest is tight."

Renee reached up and pressed the back of her hand to Bella's forehead and flushed cheeks, and frowned, "Baby...you're burning up."

Charlie sighed, scratching the back of his head, "I'll go get the thermometer and call the doctor."

"Dad, no," Bella whined. "It's just a cold."

"Bells, you're going to the doctor," he responded, leaving no room for argument. "We can't take any chances, kiddo, not with your lungs the way they are."

After bringing the thermometer to Renee, Charlie called Bella's primary physician's office and left a message, knowing it was too early for anyone to be in the office yet, but also knowing someone would call as soon as they got in. In Bella's twenty-five years, Charlie had dialed that number in the middle of the night more times than he could count, and the women in the office had always been amazing at squeezing them in on a moment's notice. As soon as he hung up on the messaging system, Charlie called the department and notified his superiors he wouldn't be in that day. With all the time he'd taken off in the last two months he highly expected them to be disgruntled, but instead, they just extended their best wishes for Bella to feel better and told him they'd see him when he was able to return.

By the time he returned upstairs to his wife and daughter, Bella was hunched over a bucket held between her legs, heaving.

"Maybe we should bring her to the ER instead..."

"No!" Bella's terrified face shot up from the bucket, overwhelming fear gripping her at the thought of being admitted again. "I'll go to the doctor...no hospitals, _please_."

As Charlie and Renee looked at each other helplessly, Bella groaned, her stomach lurching and rolling again. She had the flu, she knew it, and she should have seen the signs of it approaching. It never failed; every year her weeklong bought with the illness was preceded by aching muscles and headaches—all of which she'd passed off as being caused by the strain and stress she'd been under while caring for Edward.

By seven thirty, the doctor's office had returned Charlie's call and, much to his relief, were able to sneak her in at nine. He wasn't sure what to expect from the visit this time around. Usually they gave her a prescription to help with the severe nausea she suffered when she got hit with the flu and sent her home with instructions to rest and drink lots of fluids, but Dr. Gerandy in the hospital had informed them that even the slightest of illnesses, such as the common cold, could potentially hospitalize her.

At quarter after ten, Edward sat at the bottom of his stairwell yelling for his brother who was knocked out cold in his bedroom. He'd told Jasper to set the alarm clock before he disappeared up the stairs the night before with his gaming console, but it had done little good. Either he hadn't set it, or he'd shut it off when it began to blare, because he'd been yelling up the stairs for fifteen minutes and had yet to hear even a creak in the floorboards.

"Jasper! Come on, man, get up!" Edward hollered again over the sound of Tango scratching and barking at the bedroom door upstairs.

Edward spared one last glance down at his watch and grumbled to himself as he wheeled his way into the kitchen to grab the cordless phone. He hit the speed dial for his father's cell phone and pressed it to his ear as he listened to Tango continue to howl and scratch at the door one floor above him.

"Edward, is everything okay?" Carlisle answered, forgoing his typical greeting.

"Not really," Edward huffed. "Your son won't wake up and I'm gonna be late for my doctor's appointment before physical therapy. Are you at the station? I need a ride."

"I am actually...Bella isn't there with you?" Carlisle asked curiously. She was usually there every day by ten at the latest.

"No, we kind of...got into a fight...well not really a fight, but...oh fucking hell," Edward huffed and emitted a frustrated growl, "I was an asshole and I messed shit up between us and I don't really wanna talk about it right now. Can you give me a ride or should I call Emmett? I don't wanna ask Mom because if something happens again when I'm trying to get into or out of the car, she won't be able to help get me back up."

"No, don't call Emmett. I'm on my way," he answered instantly and Edward could hear the jingling of his keys as he grabbed them up off his office desk. "I'll be there in about ten minutes."

"Thanks," Edward sighed, irritated at his brother, but relieved he wouldn't miss his appointment.

While Edward waited for his father to arrive, he called Tango down the stairs and let him and Cash - who had been waiting patiently at the backdoor - outside. With them outside, it was easier for him to wheel himself around the kitchen to prepare and set out fresh bowls of food and water for them, and it was a slight distraction to keep him from thinking about how Bella hadn't called or responded to his text from the night before. When he'd woken up that morning and found no waiting messages for him, he resolved himself to be patient and give her the time she needed to decide whether or not she wished to forgive him.

Carlisle arrived just under fifteen minutes after hanging up with Edward, and breezed through the door expediently, "Just give me two minutes and we'll leave."

Edward nodded as his father disappeared up the stairwell, his feet pounding against the stairs quickly, and chuckled to himself as he turned his chair around and went to let the dogs back in. From his spot at the back door, Edward could clearly hear his father ripping into Jasper.

"Get up! I've been calling you for ten straight minutes and your brother's been trying to get you up all morning! If you can't be a responsible adult and do what we asked you to come here to do, then you have no business coming here at all..."

He couldn't hear what Jasper was saying, his voice to low and muted to filter through the vents, but whatever it was had infuriated their father.

"I don't care!" he hollered. "Your problems are _nothing_ compared to what your brother is going through! Do you have _any_ idea how disastrous it could've been if he'd needed help and couldn't wake you up or reach a phone? Grow up, Jasper...this is getting goddamn ridiculous already."

As Carlisle's feet came pounding back down the stairs, Edward wheeled himself toward the front door. He wanted to gripe at his father for insinuating that he couldn't manage helping himself, but after the shower incident just over a week before, he realized he couldn't refute the truth in his statement.

"Ready?" Carlisle asked, slightly winded.

Edward nodded, wheeling himself through the front door, "How are we doing this? I think I can get in the truck, but getting back out is going to be an issue..."

"We're taking Jasper's car. It's not like he has anywhere important to be today."

Edward looked at Carlisle as they made their way down the driveway and wondered to himself when his father had aged so dramatically. Just months before, at his fifty-two years of age, he could have easily passed for being in his early forties, late thirties even, but now he looked every bit his age—and then some. Deep lines had been etched across his features and the spattering of gray hair at his temples had begun to fill into shocking white streaks. He wondered if his father's signs of aging had occurred while he'd been in a coma, or if he'd been oblivious to them progressing for years right in front of him.

After heaving himself into the passenger seat, Edward shut the door and waited as Carlisle folded up his wheelchair and shoved it into the backseat. The second Carlisle slipped into the driver's seat and cringed, Edward burst out laughing.

"What the _hell_ is that smell?"

"I have _no _idea," Edward chuckled, "There's probably a six month old bag of fast food under one of the seats."

"Jesus...roll your window down, will ya?" Carlisle grimaced, shaking his head as he started the car. "How does he drive this thing? It sounds like it's going to fall apart...you'd think instead of blowing his paychecks he would have bought a new car."

"It's probably a good thing he didn't, seeing as how he doesn't have a paycheck anymore," Edward chuckled, amused by the rumbling and shaking of the car.

"Don't remind me," Carlisle muttered as he went to pull down the visor, unaware of the stash of mail shoved above it. When it all came down on him like an avalanche, he cursed under his breath in annoyance.

"Collections...collections...unopened bill with a stamp dated for a month ago, guess that'll be in collections soon, too," Carlisle huffed, grabbing the wad of envelopes and tossing them over his shoulder into the backseat. Edward just laughed under his breath and shook his head.

"What? It's not like he's going to pay them."

As they rode down the highway, Edward watched the scenery pass as his thoughts turned to responsibilities in his own life. Most specifically, his financial responsibilities. That morning, Edward had gotten up early and collected all of his bills and budget planner. Within an hour, he'd come to the conclusion that his savings could keep him afloat for the next six months; seven if he stuck to a _really _tight budget. After that, he didn't know what he was going to do.

The money that had been raised at the department sponsored fundraiser had been spent on the installation of his new handicap accessible shower and the construction of the ramps to his front door and backyard, and he was grateful to have had that tremendous help. His biggest issue was that the disability payments that had just started coming in were less than half of what he'd been making while working—and he'd need them to pay for whatever medical bills would start rolling in at any moment. If he wasn't recovered at the end of those six months that his savings could support him, he'd be financially screwed because his disability payments just wouldn't cut it no matter how strict of a budget he stuck to.

"Up shit's creek without a paddle," he muttered to himself under his breath.

"What was that?" Carlisle asked, having not heard him clearly.

"Nothing..." Edward sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. "Just worrying about money."

Carlisle glanced over as he frowned and reached out to grip his shoulder, "We'll figure it out, Edward. With summer break over and your mother back to work at the school, we should be able to help a little more than we could before."

As Carlisle focused his attention back on the road, he thought about how many sleepless nights he'd had recently worrying over the same issue. He wished he could take care of all of his son's financial needs while he was out of work, but with two mortgages, their own monthly bills and expenses, and his having been living off of vacation hours for the last month on top of Esme having been off work all summer—it just wasn't feasible. They were already almost behind on some of their bills due to the strenuous weight of the second mortgage they'd had to take out on their home when Edward was just a Junior in high school.

Getting a second mortgage on the house had been their only way out of their impending financial ruin. Years of tuition loans for the boys' educations at the private school where Esme worked as the office secretary/manager, occasional costly home and vehicle repairs, and keeping up with the cost of raising three boys had quickly accumulated and nearly sent them to the poorhouse. The medical bills, however, had been the worst. Between Emmett's broken arm at age six, ankle at age eight, and braces at age eleven, Jasper's tonsillectomy at age nine, broken wrist at age twelve, and appendectomy at age thirteen, and Edward's countless visits to the ER for stitches seemingly nearly every few months, Esme and Carlisle had often felt like taping all the bills to a wall, and throwing three darts to see which ones would get paid that month, because there just wasn't a way to pay them all.

During the first twenty years of their marriage, it seemed as though if there had been a financial crisis to be found within a twenty mile radius of where they stood, it invariably sought them out. They'd spent the better part of their wedded years struggling, but they had always managed to somehow keep their heads above water. He just hoped that with whatever help they could give him, Edward wouldn't ever come as close as they had a time or two to losing everything he'd worked so hard for.

Inside the doctor's office, Edward and Carlisle were greeted by smiling faces and pleasant voices that, within minutes of arriving, were ushering them back to an exam room.

"Are they taking the cast off today?" Carlisle asked as they waited in the small room that positively _reeked_ of antiseptic cleanser and plaster.

"I hope so because it's just a giant pain in the ass anymore," Edward replied, shifting in his wheelchair to try and get more comfortable.

A soft knock at the door sounded just before Dr. Karges entered the room, smiling kindly as he extended his hand out toward the men in turn.

"Hello, Edward. How are you doing today?" he asked.

"Been worse," he chuckled lightly.

"I can imagine," Dr. Karges laughed as he sat upon a stool and rolled closer to Edward. "How's the physical therapy coming along?"

"Not too bad, actually," Edward shrugged. "The therapist is cool...he's kind of a friend of a friend. Works me pretty hard, but it's not as bad as I'd thought it would be."

"Any progress?" the doctor asked.

"Some...in my right leg, anyway. I've been hoping it's just the cast on the left holding me up," Edward responded. "It's kind of heavy and there's not much room to move in there."

"Well then, let's see if we can get rid of it today. Sound good?" he asked and Edward nodded. "So here's the plan, I'm going to cut the cast off and then send you down the hall for some x-rays. Dr. Ashford isn't running clinic today, but he ordered for some films to be taken of your back today since you'd already be coming in, and he wanted to review them before your appointment with him next week."

"Okay," Edward nodded again.

"Alright, let's get this off and hopefully get you out of here a few pounds lighter."

An hour, one workout of bending to and fro and side to side, and fifteen x-rays later—nine of his entire leg and six of his back—Edward wheeled himself back out to the car, sans one highly annoying cast. He knew he still had a long road to travel toward recovery, but leaving that hunk of plaster behind felt like the first victory he'd had in a streamlined plethora of failures.

Unfortunately, that victorious feeling wouldn't last long.

Just as they were getting ready to pull out of the parking lot, Carlisle's cell phone rang.

"Hello?...Hey Charlie, what's going on?...oh no...uh huh..."

Edward's brow furrowed as his father's expression turned to one of worry. Worry of his own began to flood his system as his father mouthed Bella's name to him silently while listening to Charlie on the other end of the line.

"What happened? Is she okay?" Edward asked, only to have his father hold up a finger at him telling him to wait a second.

"Okay...yes, please, and if it's not too much, give me a shout when they get her into a room. Thanks for calling, Charlie."

"What happened?" Edward asked again as Carlisle snapped his phone shut and sighed.

"Bella's in the emergency room. They're admitting her...Edward, relax," Carlisle urged as his son began running his hands through his hair; a sure sign he was stressing himself out. "It's nothing to get worked up about, she'll be fine. She just came down with the flu overnight and they think she has an upper respiratory infection as well. Her doctor only wants to admit her as a precaution because of all the trouble she had with her lungs just two months ago."

"But I just saw her yesterday," Edward said, shaking his head. "She was _fine_ just yesterday."

"These things happen," Carlisle shrugged. "She's probably been coming down with it for a few days now. It just didn't hit until early this morning...what are you doing?"

"Calling Seth...I'm not going to physical therapy today," Edward replied, searching for the number in his contact list.

"Edward..."

"Pop, it's _one day_," he shook his head, not wanting to argue. "I'll be fine, just drop me off at the hospital. I'm sure Charlie and Renee can give me a lift home later tonight."

"They probably won't have to. Renee was calling your mother while I was on the phone with Charlie. I'm sure she'll come as soon as she gets off of work, so if I can't bring you home, she will."

Once Edward had gotten Seth on the line, he explained the situation and, at Seth's request, he took down his cell number and promised to call when Bella got into a room. Edward wasn't even sure if Bella would want him to visit her, but not attempting to see her wasn't an option. She'd dropped everything in her life for him, and he could do the same for her—because that's what _good _friends did, and he'd been a horrible one to her thus far.

When they got to the hospital, Edward and Carlisle went straight to the emergency room, but were told they wouldn't be allowed back because Bella already had two visitors and that was the maximum they'd allow at one time. Just as the woman had finished speaking to them, Carlisle spotted Alice walking away from the triage area and toward the exam rooms.

"Is there any way I can speak to Alice Cullen for a minute? I'm her father in-law," Carlisle asked politely.

"Sure, let me go get her for you," the woman smiled before turning on her heel.

Within minutes Alice was approaching the registration station, smiling and shaking her head. "Trying to pull strings with your connections, are we?"

"How is she?" Edward asked, unable to even crack a smile in response.

Alice sighed and chewed the inside of her lip for a moment as her head turned back in the direction of the exam rooms. "Not so good right now," she answered, turning her gaze back toward him. "I'd let you back but they're getting ready to bring her upstairs. You should be able to visit her up there in about a half hour or so. She'll be in room six-ten. You'll want to keep your distance, though. You don't need to get sick right now, Edward."

"Yeah, yeah. They gave me a flu shot right before I got discharged, Peanut. I'll be fine," he replied, waving it off.

"Don't you _yeah, yeah _me, Mister. I'm only looking out for you," Alice chastised lightly through her smile. "I have to get back to work. I'll see you upstairs after I get off. And Edward?"

"Yeah?" he asked.

"Be gentle toward her today, will you?" Alice frowned. "She feels like crap, she doesn't need to take any of yours right now."

"I wasn't planning on giving her any, but thanks for the reminder, Peanut," Edward grumbled as he turned his chair to head out of the ER and into the main part of the hospital.

After calling Seth, and making a quick run through the gift shop for flowers, they headed up to the waiting room on the sixth floor. As they got off the elevator, Carlisle sighed miserably at the sight of the room he'd spent far too much time within while his son had been a resident of the same floor.

"If I never see this room again...it'll be too soon," he grumbled, following closely behind Edward.

"Funny...I feel the same way about this entire hospital," Edward retorted, a wry laugh leaving him by way of a single burst of air flowing through his nose.

"Something wrong with that chair?" Edward questioned as his father halfway lowered himself into it and then stood, only to cross the room and sit in the one directly across from it.

"Yeah, it's the one I sat in when I thought you wouldn't make it out of surgery," he replied, leaning forward to brace his elbows on his knees. "Never could bring myself to sit in that one again after that first night."

"Did it really look that bad?...That I wouldn't pull through, I mean?" Edward asked after a few moments of pungent silence. He'd heard plenty of what had happened to land him in the hospital, and of things after his surgery, but not much of anything that had happened between being pulled out of the basement and being brought into the ICU.

"Honestly? My biggest fear was you'd already be gone by the time your brothers and I got here."

"What made you think that?" Edward asked, painfully watching the moisture collect in his father's eyes as he frowned and lowered his gaze to the floor.

"You coded in the rig...the driver was clearing their unit from the scene with dispatch when the medic with you in the back started yelling that you were crashing. Everyone on scene heard it over the radios..." Carlisle trailed off, remembering that moment with horrifying clarity. Much of the rest of the night might blur together over time, but that moment would forever stand out in his memory. "It took us fifteen minutes to get off scene because two volunteers had pinned my truck in. When we got here, they told us you'd coded twice...once in the rig and again right after they brought you in. You'd already been rushed up to the O.R. by the time we got here, but they hadn't yet assigned you an ICU room. They didn't even have you registered under a name...you were just Trauma Seattle."

Silence fell over the men as Carlisle relived those terrifying endless hours and Edward attempted to let the information of just how close he'd come to losing his life sink in. Everyone had kept telling him it had been a close call, but they'd never divulged just _how close_ it had been. Hearing about it now was—_unsettling_, to say the least.

"I don't even think I can begin to tell you what we went through that night," Carlisle spoke again, his gaze unfocused as his mind traveled back to those first few hours. "After they told us you'd been taken to the operating room, a chaplain came and led us to the ER's quietroom, where God knows how many families have sat and grieved after being given the news that they'd lost one of their loved ones. I don't even remember the words he said to us in there. I just kept thinking _brace yourself, he might not make it_.

"Every hour that passed with no word on how you were doing felt more and more like I was just waiting to have a bomb dropped on me."

Edward barely had time to contemplate what that must have been like for his father when his mother breezed through the door, took one look at the chair beside the one his father had almost sat in, and veered away from it as though repelled by a magnetic force field. It was in that moment that Edward realized both his parents had visually aged years from what he remembered them looking like prior to his accident. The distress they'd endured while he'd fought for his life had taken an incredible toll on them, and it was right then that it dawned on him that his fight for his life was something neither one of them would escape the haunting memories of.

"How'd you get out of work so quickly?" Carlisle asked, looking down at his watch with furrowed brows.

"I told them there was a family emergency. Janine's filling in for me, but I have to be back in time for the staff meeting. How is she? Have you seen her?" Esme asked, fraught with worry.

"Not yet...they were getting ready to bring her upstairs when we got here. Hopefully we'll be able to see her soon," Carlisle answered as she leaned down to kiss the top of Edward's head.

He almost wanted to gripe and swat her away because he'd begun to grow weary of her constantly showering him with affection, but after having the extent of what she'd gone through finally sink in, he figured the least he could do was not put up a fuss about it. If smothering him with affection somehow eased the pain she'd suffered, his masculinity could take a hit or two. She'd earned it; a thousand times over.

"Poor dear...she wasn't looking all that well the other day, but every time I tried to tell her to go home and get some rest she just kept telling me she was fine..."

Edward looked down at his lap as his parents spoke quietly to one another. The previous conversation of their time spent within that room while he'd been fighting for his life was pushed to the back of their minds as they spoke of someone in far less critical condition than he'd been in, but no less deserving of their concern. As his fingers absentmindedly toyed with the stringy ribbon wrapped around the stems of the flowers, he tried to think back and remember if she'd seemed at all under the weather during the last few days he'd spent with her—but he couldn't. He'd been so lost in his own aggravations and mental battles over his condition that he'd been oblivious to any signs of her starting to get ill. Realizing how blind he'd been to her deteriorating health that even his _mother - _who hadn't been around nearly as much since she'd returned to work - had taken notice of and worried over, he had to question if even if he'd known she was getting ill, would he have done anything about it?

He'd been so horrible to her, always taking what she offered and never giving anything back; just as she'd called him out on doing. He'd become selfish and self-absolved to the worst degree. And when Emmett strolled into the waiting room looking concerned just twenty minutes later, with flowers and a teddy bear wearing a pink bathrobe, bunny slippers, and holding a hankie that said "_Get Well Soon_", Edward had to wonder when he and his brother had switched bodies. Tendencies to only ever think about one's self had always been a less than desirable character flaw Emmett and Jasper had shared; not him. That had _never _been him...

Until recently.

"Never thought I'd step foot in _this _room again," he mumbled, lowering himself down into the chair next to their mother. Turning toward his mother, he asked quietly, "Do you think she'd mind if I didn't go in there? I mean...I _want _to, but it's just...I don't wanna risk bringing anything back to Ian, ya know?"

"Oh, honey. I'm sure she'll understand. It was nice of you to bring her these though," Esme smiled softly, patting him on the knee.

"Actually, the flowers are from Rosie," Emmett chuckled, shrugging. "I was just gonna get her the bear."

"Oh?" Esme smiled wider, appearing surprised.

"Yeah," Em laughed. "She and Ian are waiting out in the truck for me because she didn't want to bring the baby into the hospital—sick people and all. Speaking of which, I should probably get back down there. Could you just tell her we're sorry we can't visit but we hope she feels better soon? I tried calling her cell, but she didn't answer."

"I'll make sure she gets the message," Edward finally spoke up, rolling backwards and holding his hands out for their gifts for her.

Emmett only hesitated for a moment, thinking it might be better for either of his parents to pass the message and items along, but sighed and nodded as he handed them over. "Thanks, bro."

Shortly after Emmett took his leave to return to his wife and child, Edward looked down at his watch and noted that they'd been in the waiting room for an hour already. "Should we check and see if she's up for visitors yet?"

"Can't hurt to try," Carlisle shrugged, standing and stretching his limbs.

When they got to the closed door of room six-ten, the one Alice had told them Bella would be in, Edward rapped softly against the wood. From inside the room, he could hear the muffled sounds of Renee and Charlie talking, and Charlie's voice getting louder as he approached the door to open it.

"...don't try to make her, Renee. She's _sick_. If she wants something later, I'll go get it for her."

"Hey...uh," Charlie stammered after he opened the door and realized who'd been knocking. He rubbed the back of his neck as it craned back toward the sound of Bella heaving again, and with a pained look, turned his head back around to face her visitors—Edward's parents more specifically—as he shut the door behind him. "I'm sorry. I really don't think she's up for company right now."

"Poor thing," Esme sighed sadly. "Could you please give these to her and tell her we all hope she feels better soon, and that we'll stop by tomorrow to see how she's doing?"

"Sure," Charlie nodded, taking the bouquet of flowers his father had purchased from her.

"I'm not going anywhere," Edward shook his head, handing Charlie the flowers and bear Emmett had brought for her, "These are from Emmett and Rosalie, they asked to tell her they wanted to visit, but they didn't want to chance Ian getting sick."

"Do you want me to give her those, too?" Charlie questioned, pointing at the bouquet still in Edward's lap.

"No, I'd rather give them to her in person. Can you just tell her I'll be in the waiting room if or when she feels up for some company?" he asked with a pleading look. He could tell in the way Charlie's eyes hardened each time he lowered his gaze to acknowledge him that his behavior toward his daughter, as of late, had struck a raw nerve.

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather me just have her call you then?" Charlie asked, unsure if Bella would even _want _to call him when she was feeling slightly better; not after the way she'd come home from his place with a tear-streaked face the night before. She'd tried to hide her upset, but Charlie knew his daughter like the back of his hand. It had only taken him a momentary glance when she'd come in the door and bolted for the stairs with no more than a quick "_I'm beat, I'm going to bed_" for him to know something had happened between the two of them.

"That sounds like a better idea, Edward. You'd be much more comfortable waiting at home, son," Carlisle commented, severely unsettled by the thought of Edward sitting in that wretched room the rest of the family had spent far too much time within.

Edward bristled, tired of people thinking that just because he was stuck in wheelchair that it meant he was entirely incapable of making a decision for himself, much more, assuming he needed round the clock _babysitting service. _Enough was enough already for him.

"No, it doesn't. And no, I won't," he objected, fighting to keep his agitation from leaking into his tone. "Bella's spent plenty of nights sleeping in uncomfortable chairs to be by my side, and there's nothing physically wrong with me that renders me incapableof doing the same for her.

"Short of any of you taking away what little independence I have right now, nothing's going to make me leave hers. She _deserves _to know that, even though I've been an impossible asshole lately, I'm here for her as much as she's here for me."

Carlisle, Charlie, and Esme looked down at him with shocked faces, each of them taken aback by the determination blazing in his eyes as his gaze flickered between them. When they finally settled on Charlie, Edward spoke his last words before turning and wheeling himself away...

"I'll be in the waiting room."

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**A/N****: Hope everyone who celebrates it had a fabulous Thanksgiving, and everyone else had a fabulous day ^_^ See you all in 2 weeks when I get back from vaca!**


	28. Chapter 27

Disclaimer: Twilight character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. All intellectual properties associated with _Through the Flames_ belong to SparklingTwilight. Plagiarism is theft. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization. Thank you.

* * *

The Opening of Eyes Wide Shut

After leaving the doorway to Bella's room, Esme and Carlisle kept their son company for as long as they could. Unfortunately, Carlisle's fire pager had gone off just a few seconds before his handheld radio did, and he'd had to depart briskly, barely having a chance to bid his wife and son goodbye. When the clock above the doorway struck three, Esme sighed and stood before kissing Edward's forehead and heading back to St. Patrick Catholic School—where she'd been the office secretary since the days Edward and his brothers had roamed the halls of the school. When most kids got in trouble, they got sent to the Principal's office, but when the Cullen kids got handed a pass for acting up at any point during their eight year long stint in that school, they were sent to their _mother's office. _

From what Edward could remember of it, having his mother as their school disciplinarian had been _mortifying_. Even so, he fully planned on sending any kids he might have in the future there, because his mother had ruled the three of them with an iron fist and a generous heart. She knew how to put them in their place without ever even raising her voice, or calling their father; which, in his case, she hadn't ever needed to.

Jasper and Emmett on the other hand... Edward could remember a few instances where their mother had had to call their father in to pick them up because they were being suspended, and it was usually for fighting—each other, nonetheless.

Edward had been different from his brothers even back then in their youths, as where they'd spent their recess hour antagonizing each other, Edward had spent it doing what most of the other boys liked doing; playing sports. He'd tended to veer away from his siblings at all costs during school hours just so he wouldn't get the reputation of being a trouble maker by association simply because he was related to them. He'd spent his entire life trying to set himself apart, to make himself shine where his brothers soiled their images. And for what? To wake up at twenty-nine years old and realize he'd started acting just like them?

"You okay in there?"

Edward's hands dropped from where they'd been rubbing circles against his temples and he sighed as he nodded to Alice. "Yeah...just got a headache."

"I've got some Motrin if you want it," she offered as she took a seat in the chair closest to him.

"Nah, I'm good. Thanks though," he responded, waving his hand to call off her search for the bottle in her handbag.

"So I just stopped by the room. Renee said her nurse just gave her some Compazine to get rid of her nausea. I'm hoping it kicks in because Renee said she isn't even bringing anything up anymore...she's just dry-heaving."

Edward nodded to himself as he watched his fingers fiddle with the stringy bow on the flowers again, "I hope so, too."

As his hand fell away from the flowers in his lap, his downtrodden thoughts got the best of him and he turned his gaze toward Alice. "Have I been acting like an ass to everyone lately, or just Bella?"

Alice's nose scrunched up as she grimaced slightly, "A little toward everyone, but most of your major moments have been aimed at her...it's not that you target her intentionally, she's just...kind of caught in the crossfire all the time because you usually snap when something's not going the way you want it to, and she's just..._there_."

"Why the hell did all of you let me keep blowing up at the poor girl like that? Why'd it take so long for one of you to tell me to get my head out of my ass?" Edward grumbled, agitated that everyone had been watchinghim treat her so harshly, but hadn't bothered to do anything about it.

"Edward," Alice sighed, leaning forward and letting her hands hang limply between her legs as she rested her elbows on her knees.

"You're going through a rough time right now adjusting. I know that, sheknows that...we_ all _know that. From the very beginning, even before you woke up, we knew that if you were paralyzed, or even temporarily disabled, that you'd have a _really _hard time coping with it. We expect you to have off days where you're pissed off and everything around you irritates you. _She _even expects that...just not _every day _the way you have been lately."

Alice looked up at him with sad eyes, hurting for him, "It doesn't make the way you've been acting _right_, but it does make it _understandable_. Bella's a strong woman, Edward, but she's not without limits in how much she's willing to tolerate."

"I know she's not," Edward mumbled, his head falling back and his gaze staring off at the ceiling. "I already breached her limit."

"_Oh no_..." she breathed and then swung her arm out to smack his arm while demanding, "What'd you do?"

"Anyone ever tell you it's not nice to hit the handicapped?" Edward asked, lifting his head and quirking a brow at her.

"The only thing really handicapped about you right now is your _brain_," Alice huffed, rolling her eyes. "Now answer the question or I swear I'll pop you again."

"I forgot to call her to wish her a happy birthday..." Edward paused, his brow furrowing, "At least I _think _that's what triggered everything else coming to a sudden boiling point for her."

"You're an idiot."

"Indisputably." Edward sighed dismally. He wouldn't argue against that fact. He _couldn't _argue against it, because it was entirely true; for once.

"Do you have any idea at all what I'd do to have someone like her in my life? To have someone who cares about me and shows me that they care about me every day in everything they do, instead of just saying the words when all their actions make them sound so false?" Alice asked quietly after a brief silence between them, and he turned his head to look at her. "You have that, Edward. You have that in her...don't throw it away."

"I'm not intentionally _trying_ to, Peanut," Edward sighed, shaking his head.

"I know you're not...but think about what I said," Alice said as she stood from her seat. "Words aren't always enough, Edward. You can tell her you care and that you're her friend, but if you never _show_ her that...she'll never know if it's true or not."

"Where are you going?"

"To check on Bella," Alice answered, pulling her purse over her shoulder. "And then I'm going to my first solo therapy session with the lady Bella hooked Jasper and I up with."

"When did you decide to start going to therapy?" Edward asked, not remembering her ever bringing it up in the last few weeks. Fights she'd had with Jasper, yeah, but nothing of her seeing someone professionally for herself.

Alice shrugged, pursing her lips, "About a week ago. I figured if he's not going to put an effort forth to work on our marriage with me, I might as well take a page from his book and focus on myself, as well, because, let's face it...I'm not happy with him, I'm not happy without him...I'm just...nothappy_ period_,and it's a shitty way to feel all the time."

He reached his hand out toward her and when she took it, he pulled her toward him. A soft smile graced her lips as she leaned down so he could hug her.

"I'm proud of you, Peanut," he told her, rubbing her back. "Just keep doing whatever it is you need to do to find the happiness you deserve."

"I'm trying, Edward...it's not easy, but I am trying."

Inside Bella's hospital room, Charlie stood leaning against the large window watching over his finally slumbering daughter. The last five hours had left him teetering on the precipice of exhaustion between worrying over his only child and thinking of the man sitting in the waiting room.

"Stop looking at me like that Renee," he sighed, rubbing his face.

"Then stop acting the way you are, Charlie," she retorted, maintaining her disapproving stare. "It's not right. It's not _your _place to decide if he is or isn't wanted in her life."

He turned to look at her and crossed his arms over his chest, "Well then, _she_ can decide...when she feels better." He paused to shake his head. "She's sick, Renee. She needs _rest_, not someone sitting around here who will upset her."

"_Will_ or _might_? Because, I have to say, Charlie...for someone who was telling their daughter to cut the guy some slack just yesterday, you sure are all about playing judge, jury, and executioner today."

"Don't give me that horse crap," he argued, "You saw the exact same thing I did last night. She was perfectly fine when she left the house after showering and she came home in _tears_, Renee. She may be a grown adult, but she's still my little girl and I'll be damned if I stand by and let him continue to do that to her."

"I'm not saying you should," she replied defensively.

"Then what the hell are you saying?"

Renee rolled her eyes as she grabbed her purse and stood, "What I'm saying is that what you're doing is unfair. She doesn't even know he's _here_, Charlie. And do you really think he'd sit around here all day if he didn't care? How is that fair to either one of them?"

"Alright, alright...simmer down. I'll go get him," he sighed, pushing himself away from the window and heading for the door, somewhat begrudgingly.

As he stepped out of the room and began to make his way down the hall, Charlie had his mind set on giving Edward a sound lashing before allowing him into Bella's room—but when he got to the corner and spotted him, his angry words failed him. Edward sat, all alone in the horrid room, in his wheelchair with his bunched up sweatshirt pressed between his hand and the side of his face. His eyes were closed, but his expression was pained as his free hand pressed and rubbed against his left thigh. Charlie sighed quietly to himself and took the few remaining steps into the room.

"Leg fall asleep?" he asked, lowering himself down into a chair across from him.

Edward's eyes shot open as his head raised; his sweatshirt forgotten and left to tumble into his lap, "No, it's fine...how is she?"

"Sleeping." Charlie eyed him questioningly as he pointed toward the leg he was continuing to rub. "Does it hurt?"

"A bit, but it's fine...can I see her?"

"As soon as we get one thing straight," he answered, giving him a stern look, but his voice lacked the anger it would have withheld just minutes before. "You upset her in _any way_ and I'll have you not only forcibly removed from her room, but banned from this entire floor for the duration of her stay, got it?"

Edward nodded, looking down at his lap shamefully, "Fully deserved and duly noted."

Charlie grunted as he stood, watching Edward's cautious and sorrowful eyes follow his movements as he crossed his arms over his chest, "You're a good guy, Edward. I'm not blind to that and neither is my daughter, but I'm going to tell you the same thing I said to her just yesterday...I may like you, but she is—and will always be—my little girl, so it goes without saying that someone hurting her will _never_ be something I'll stand for...not even for you, understood?"

Edward nodded again, a slight sad smile tugging at the corner of his lips, "I'd expect no less...she's lucky to have a father like you."

For just a fraction of a moment Charlie's hardened mask slipped, falling susceptible to the anguish he'd been learning the man before him had suffered even prior to the night he'd nearly given his life in trade for Bella's—for his little girl's. He could empathize with Edward's struggles of being placed on a pedestal too high and impossible to maintain balance upon by members of his family that simultaneously failed to acknowledge him. Growing up as the elder of two sons of a single mother, he'd struggled and succumbed numerous times to the strain placed upon his shoulders as the man of the household at a tremendously young age.

It hadn't been until his daughter had been born that he'd understood the need to step away from the oppressive burdens he'd carried out of devotion and obligation to his brother and mother. He believed that Bella had saved his life, as he was undeniably certain that he wouldn't have made it to his fortieth—much less be approaching his fiftieth—birthday beneath the weight of the stress he'd endured daily for an entire decade and a half.

"You've got it mixed up, kid." Charlie shook his head as he motioned toward the doorway for Edward to lead them out, "I'm the one who's lucky to have her, and you'd do well to realize that you are, too."

Upon entering Bella's room, Edward stole a concerned glance at her curled up form in the bed before greeting Renee politely and quietly. He fully expected to receive a second round of, admittedly lenient, chastisement for his recent behavior toward their daughter, but Renee surprised him by smiling warmly at him and leaning down to kiss his temple as she patted his cheek. His still being there after so many hours was all the confirmation she needed that his earlier declarations had been made with the utmost sincerity.

"Charlie and I were going to get some dinner. Are you hungry? Would you like us to bring you back anything?" she asked as she stood up straight and took the bouquet of flowers from his lap to place them in one of the water pitchers they'd been using as makeshift vases.

"No, I'm good. Thank you though," Edward replied with a slight shake of his head. In truth, he was starving; having not eaten a thing since early morning and it was approaching nightfall, but he didn't wish to be a burden and he wasn't sure he could stomach food at any rate, either.

"Okay, just call if you change your mind," Renee offered worriedly after placing the flowers on the nightstand beside her bed.

"Thank you, but really, I'm fine," Edward answered uneasily. Their family had already done far too much for him as it was in his eyes.

Within moments, after Renee tenderly kissed the top of Bella's head and Charlie placed a hand on his shoulder in silent reminder of their chat, Edward found himself alone in the room with the sleeping form of the person he'd waited all afternoon to see. He rolled himself closer to her bed and watched as she slept seemingly peacefully, and found himself questioning again how he'd been capable of treating her so horridly. She seemed so frail and tiny hidden beneath the mountain of blankets with only her flushed face and one hand escaping the heaping coverage.

Frail, tiny, and angelic—and he'd been _brutal _toward her.

"_Damn_, what the hell is wrong with me?" he muttered to himself under his breath.

For a solid hour he sat in silence, just watching over her the way he had many a time when it had been him in the bed instead. He'd watched her sleep restlessly through her discomfort more times than he could count, but not once had he ever seen her sleep soundly as she was in those moments where kept vigil at her bedside. And during that hour as she slumbered with a serene expression, devoid of the cinched brow-line and unconscious frown, something stirred deep within him that caught him completely off guard.

Somewhere between noticing the tiny freckle just above her left eyebrow, gazing upon her long dark eyelashes that just barely grazed the tips of her cheeks, and tracing the gentle slope of her nose and how it curved and led his eyes down to the perfect cupid's bow of her upper lip, Edward realized Bella was... _beautiful_. He'd long since known she was attractive, as that had only taken him a mere glance to ascertain, but in just the span of an hour, he'd come to realize that the generic term hardly served her justice.

Whether it was her inner beauty that he'd become so familiar with over the last six and a half weeks suddenly shining out of her, or if she'd always been so stunningly beautiful and he'd just been ignorant to it, he couldn't be sure; but matter it did not, because his eyes had been opened and he doubted he'd ever be able to close them off again.

At twenty after eight, a light knock resounded at the door just before it opened and Edward's attention was beckoned away from Bella's face. The nurse, surprisingly one Edward _hadn't_ come to recognize while being a resident of the same floor, smiled kindly and quietly made her way to Bella's bedside.

"I'll just be a moment," she said in a hushed voice, ever mindful of her sleeping patient as she checked her fluids and the bedside monitor keeping track of her oxygen saturation and temperature. When she stepped away from the bed, she paused and faced Edward once more, "Visiting hours will be ending in a few minutes. Will you be needing an overnight pass?"

"Please," he nodded and watched as she slipped from the room silently. As soon as she'd departed, he pulled his phone from his pocket and sent off a text to Jasper.

**Are you still at the house? - E**

Not two full minutes passed before his phone lit up silently with a reply and he flipped it back open.

**Yea. U need a ride? - J**

He ran his thumb in circles over the keys as he thought about how to respond. He wanted to stay, but he wasn't sure Bella would want him there once she awoke. Sighing to himself, he tapped out a reply message and sent it.

**Maybe, but not right now. I might stay the night, if so, can you bring me clothes in the am? - E**

Again, nearly instantly, Edward received a reply.

**Yea sure. Call if u need a ride - J**

He'd almost slipped his phone back in his pocket before he flipped it right back open and shot another text to his brother.

**Did you feed the dogs? - E**

It took almost five minutes for the reply to come, and Edward had to roll his eyes, figuring his brother was _just _feeding then them because he hadn't thought to.

**No I let them dig through the trash. Yes, I fed them & let them out too - J**

"I bet you did," Edward muttered to himself as he slipped his phone back in his pocket just as the overhead announcement notifying the end of visiting hours blared through the hospital corridors.

As the familiar overhead message approached its end, Bella began to stir. A smile tugged at the corner of Edward's lips as she whimpered and began to uncurl beneath the blanket, stretching her legs toward the bottom of the bed and bringing her bent arms up toward her head. He stayed silent, hoping not to startle her, but the moment her eyes peeked open, she jumped despite his efforts. A breathy chuckle left her lips as she brought the sheet up to hide her blushing face. Waking to find Edward in her room was _not _something she'd been expecting.

"Hi," she rasped, her voice hoarse and barely audible. "How long have you been here?"

Edward smiled slightly as he shrugged one shoulder, "Since about one in the waiting room...I've been in here a little over an hour though." His smile fell as his head tilted to the side and he regarded her with repentant eyes. "Is it okay that I'm here?"

Bella gazed into his eyes, her face still half hidden by the sheet as her heart skipped a beat at his remorse laden expression. Moments, which felt like eons spent in silence to Edward, passed before she nodded and lowered the sheet so it just covered her lips.

Edward's frown deepened as his eyes flitted over her face and the way she curled the sheet around her delicate fingers, and he wheeled himself closer to the side of her bed. As he stretched his arm out, leaving his hand palm up atop her bed, he silently beseeched her with his eyes to reach back out to him. Her eyes, dulled and swollen from her illness, but still warmer than he'd ever known eyes could be, darted back and forth between his own and his hand. His lips quirked in a sad, regretful smile as he moved his fingers in invitation - and only upon her acquiescence as she slipped one of hers over it, did his shoulders relieve their anxious tension.

Edward could have said a million things to her right then; could have made an attempt to excuse his treatment toward her by laying the blame solely upon his inability to cope with his circumstances, or vowed right then and there to never act so callously toward her again, or even asked her to stay away in fear of hurting her again—but he chose to do none of the above. After spending the entire afternoon contemplating what best to say to her and weighing every possible outcome, the words he'd settled on had been simple. Simple and truer than any he'd ever spoken before.

"I'm sorry. You deserve better."

Anything more than those few words would have diluted the truth held within them, and anything less would have been a cruel and unfair injustice to her. But within those few words and the inflection with which he spoke them, Bella had heard all she'd needed to hear; she wasn't unwanted, she wasn't a mere convenience to him, and she wasn't unworthy of his friendship.

"You're forgiven," she murmured, squeezing his hand gently before pulling it back beneath the covers as her teeth began to chatter. "You shouldn't be here, Edward...I'm contagious."

Edward leaned farther forward and ran the backs of his fingers against her forehead, brushing her damp bangs away from her feverish skin, "I'll take my chances."

"Don't be ridicul..." she attempted to chide as she moved to sit up, but her words came to an abrupt halt as she began coughing hoarsely. It was painful for him to both watch and hear, and even more so to know there was nothing he could do to help, but he did try. From where he sat, leaning all the way forward, he could just reach her enough to rub the side of her back.

With a whining moan of discontent, Bella fell back against her pillows, out of breath and rubbing the center of her chest with the palm of her hand. "_Jeebus_, that hurt," she panted, a tear streaming from the corner of her eye and disappearing into her hair.

"You okay?"

As he asked, he slipped his hand from behind her back and helped her pull the blankets back up.

"Yeah," she nodded, her chin quivering as she shivered and pulled the blanket further up, leaving only her head exposed. She turned her face to the side and looked at him worriedly, "You really should go home, Edward."

He propped his elbow atop the mattress and rested his head against it, "Do you want me to go because you don't want me here, or because you're afraid I'll get sick?"

"Because I'm afraid you'll get sick," she replied through chattering teeth and closed her eyes as her entire body broke out in uncontrollable tremors.

"Then I'm staying," he sighed, shaking his head, "I told you, I'll take my chances."

The night was long; longer than any Edward could remember having had since he'd left the hospital. Hours passed after Charlie and Renee had returned, bringing with them a to-go container of spaghetti with meat sauce for Edward, and a small bowl of Italian Wedding soup for Bella—both which had gone nearly untouched by either. They'd stayed until just after ten before departing to head home; both having to work in the morning.

By midnight, the lights had been turned off and Edward watched on silently as Bella's eyes drooped and blinked sluggishly at the small TV airing the last half hour of a nineties sitcom marathon. Beside her sat a plastic basin, steadily filling with used tissues as congestion began to set in. She both looked and sounded miserable, but even so, Edward couldn't take his eyes off of her. And as her eyes began to droop further, her blinks becoming more sluggish and drawn out until they closed as she drifted off to sleep, Edward's began to do the same. He waited until he was sure there were no signs of her waking any time soon, and then he made himself as comfortable as he could.

In his cramped discomfort, Edward began to understand all that Bella had gone through just to stand beside him. Not only did he begin to see the physical strain she'd willingly suffered just to be in his company and befriend him in a way no other person ever had before, but he also began to truly see the kind of person she was to have been able to give of herself so wholly and selflessly to a person no more acquainted to her than a stranger passing by on the streets. She was an angel.

_His _guardian angel.

It was there, with his head resting atop a pillow at the foot of her bed, and his arm stretched out so his hand could rest atop her blanketed leg, that Edward dreamt peacefully for the first time in years; no flickers of flames, no terrified cries of faceless victims he couldn't find, and no nightmarish visions of tragedies he'd witness during his ten year career.

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**A/N****: Have I told you all how much I adore you? ^_^ Thank you for all the happy holiday wishes! I hope all of yours were enjoyable as well! See you all in 2 weeks! XOXO**


	29. Chapter 28

Disclaimer: Twilight character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. All intellectual properties associated with _Through the Flames_ belong to SparklingTwilight. Plagiarism is theft. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization. Thank you.

* * *

**A/N****: OMG What's this? An update on a Tuesday instead of a Thursday? See you all at the bottom for an explanation! ^_^**

* * *

To Encourage or Hinder With a Helping Hand

On the morning of Friday, September eighteenth, Edward awoke in a sour mood. His back and hips were on fire from having spent three consecutive nights in his wheelchair beside Bella's bed, cramped and uncomfortable and waking each morning with kinks and sores too numerous to count. The previous night, he'd finally surrendered to her pleas for him to go home when visiting hours ended and sleep in his own bed, but it had done little for his persistent aches.

But oddly enough, it wasn't the constant soreness or the never ending distress of failed attempts at independency that were affecting him so greatly that morning. It was something altogether different, and it had been building within him now for days.

It had started on Tuesday when his mother had come to take him to physical therapy on her lunch break and kept insisting on helping him to get into the car.

It continued early Tuesday evening when Alec picked him up and brought him home so he could shower, change, and make something for dinner that he could bring back for Bella—and Alec _insisted_ on helping him in the kitchen even though the man couldn't manage to make a slice of toast without practically burning the house down.

On Wednesday, Emmett had brought him to physical therapy, stayed for the session, brought him home to shower and change, and then when Edward had wanted to take the dogs for a walk, had _insisted _on doing it for him.

On Thursday, his mother had stopped by the house just after he'd finished putting together a container of homemade chicken noodle soup for Bella and _insisted _upon cleaning the mess he'd made. Before she left, she'd _insisted _upon doing his laundry for him, leaving him little room to argue with her as she swept past him with his basket of dirty clothes.

So when he awoke on Friday morning, already in a sour mood, only to find his mother starting to do the dishes he'd left in the sink the night before, his aggravation peaked.

"I can do it," he grumbled, wheeling himself into the kitchen. Leaving the dishes in the sink hadn't been because he'd been unable to do them. It had just been an accustomed habit of the bachelor lifestyle he'd lived for years. Most of his mornings in the years prior to the incident had begun with the ritual chore of loading the dishwasher.

"It's okay, honey," Esme smiled lovingly at him. "What would you like for breakfast?"

"I can make it myself...would you stop?"

"Don't be silly, sweetheart. I have an hour before I need to be at the school. I can have it cooked and cleaned up before I leave," she snickered, oblivious to the tension in his voice.

He rubbed his forehead with his fingertips and forced a deep breath out of his nose as he dropped his hand and shook his head. It wasn't worth fighting over, and as he wheeled himself to the corner of the kitchen to tend to the dog bowls, he repeated that to himself in a silent mantra as he responded to her.

"Fine...just coffee and a bagel." Just as he was bending forward to grab the empty dog bowls, Esme gasped and dropped a plate in the sink, making a loud clatter that startled Edward and made him drop the metal bowl on the floor.

"What? What is it?"

"Don't...you might hurt yourself," Esme rushed over, wiping her wet hands on the dishtowel she'd had tossed over her shoulder. "I'll feed the dogs for you, just let me finish doing the dishes first."

Edward's shoulders sagged as she bent down to pick up the bowl he'd dropped, and he had to fight off the urge to just either scream or cry; he didn't know which he wanted to do more in that moment.

"Would you _please _just stop?"

His quiet and agonized tone halted Esme in her tracks, bowls in hand and crouched down toward the floor. She looked up just in time to see him shaking his head slowly as he stared at the ceiling; thoughts of how much he wished Bella were well and there with him ravaging his mind unbeknownst to her. There was a subtleness to the way she cared for him that he missed sorely. Ever since she'd been in the hospital, any attempts to do something for himself had been thwarted by the person in charge of caring for him at the time, and their blatant disregard for his need to be as independent as he could was wreaking havoc on his mental state.

With Bella it was different. She_ encouraged_ him to do things on his own. She allowed him the space to at least _try_, and she didn't make a big deal out of it when he struggled or failed miserably. But most of all, even if he'd failed the first time, she _still _encouraged him to try again. He missed that.

He missed _her._

"You're not helping me," he spoke quietly, rubbing his forehead with his fingers. "Doing everything for me and keeping me from doing anything for myself doesn't help me, Mom." He dropped his hand and sighed miserably.

"Please, you and everyone else, please just..._stop_. If I need help, I'll ask, but until then...stop treating me like I can't do a _damn thing _on my own."

After biting out his last words, he wheeled himself away, leaving his mother behind, stunned and heartbroken. A massive headache was beginning to pulsate and throb at the base of his skull and behind his temples as he snatched up his cell phone and disappeared into the backyard with the dogs.

"Go play," he muttered, throwing a deflated football for the pair and then flipping his phone open after they tore off after it.

Edward looked down at the phone, noting the time at just ten minutes after seven in the morning. Edward hoped he wasn't waking her as his fingers pressed the keys to dial the direct room number he'd come to memorize from staring at it on the dry erase board while Bella napped off and on throughout the hours he'd spent in her room. But as she answered, groggy, hoarse, and congested, he felt horrible that he had.

"I'm sorry I woke you," he said apologetically.

"What's wrong?" she croaked, knowing instantly something was off by the tone of his voice.

"Nothing..._everything_," he amended, sighing and shaking his head as he looked across the yard. "Everyone around here is driving me up a wall. They act like I'm a complete _invalid _and I can't stand it."

Bella frowned as she laid back down with the phone pressed to her ear. She still hadn't fully awoken, her mind and comprehensive abilities jumbled and sluggish as she remained on the brink of slumber.

"What?" she asked, unsure why anyone would treat him as an invalid when he was anything but.

"Nothing...it's nothing," he sighed, wishing he hadn't woken her for such a ridiculous reason, but knowing that in that moment, the only thing standing between him and a mental breakdown had been the sound of her voice—groggy and hoarse as it was. "Go back to sleep. I'm sorry for waking you."

"No, I'm up...it's fine," she argued, speaking louder and causing herself to start coughing, which made him feel even worse.

He waited until she released the breathless groan that always seemed to pinpoint the end of one of her episodes, and then spoke again, "Bella, really. Go back to sleep. You need the rest. I shouldn't have called so early."

"Edward, I'm up," she grumbled, sitting upright in the bed. "If it was important enough for you to call at the crack of dawn, then it's important enough for me to listen to the reason you did."

So he told her. Edward talked, and she listened, never interrupting him as he spoke of the events during the week which had been causing him unnecessary distress. As Bella listened, her heart hurt for him; not because of his family's attempts to help him, but because of how it made him _feel_. In just the short time that she'd known him, she'd come to be acutely aware of the fact that his most strenuous mental and emotional struggles had less to do with his actual physical condition and more to do with the loss of freedoms he felt because of it.

"Hm..." she hummed when he was finished. "You know what you need to do?"

"No...what?" he asked, a slight smile curling the edges of his lips at the whimsical tone in her voice, despite it being marred slightly by her congestion.

"You need...to make me breakfast."

"_What_?" he sputtered, a chuckle ripping through his throat.

"You need to make me breakfast. I'm hungry," she sniggered, sounding nasally and vaguely seal-like as her voice cut in and out.

"And what would the wonderful Miss Bella like for breakfast this morning?" he laughed, his tone slightly teasing.

"Pancakes...and sausage, the patty kind...not the links, ew," she replied, smiling until the very end when her nose scrunched and she grimaced.

"My mother's still here," he sighed, looking back toward the kitchen window. "Would you like me to ask her to make it for you?"

"_No_," she drawled. "I want _you_ to make it."

"Pancakes and sausage, huh?" he mused, scratching the back of his head as she responded with an "_mmhm_" that was muted due to her stuffed up sinuses. In the last four days she'd barely eaten much of anything, either unable to stomach what had been placed before her, or repulsed by her inability to taste what made it past her lips.

"You're not even hungry...are you?"

Bella whimpered faintly as she laid back down, knowing she'd been caught red-handed. "No...but I'd eat it if you made it." It wasn't entirely false. Everything he'd brought and put the effort into making for her she'd at least _tried _to eat.

"How about some cream of wheat instead?" he asked, half smiling at her attempt to make him feel useful. "At least that doesn't taste like anything with or without your taste buds intact."

"Fine," she pouted. "But as soon as I can taste again you're making me those pancakes...with nuts...and bananas...and chocolate syrup and whipped cream..."

"Bella..." he interrupted.

"Huh?"

"It's a wonder your taste buds work at all with some of the concoctions of crap you eat," he laughed.

"Hey," she whined, trying not to laugh. "I don't eat weird stuff."

"Sure," he teased. "Because using buffalo sauce as salad dressing last week wasn't strange at all."

"Don't knock it 'til you try it, and besides, there was leftover fried chicken in it...so it was a buffalo chicken salad, so _thppt_," she chuckled, blowing him a raspberry.

From inside the house, Esme gazed out the kitchen window, wiping a stray tear from her face and smiling sadly at the sight of Edward laughing. She'd known instantly who he'd been talking to at the slightest hint of a smile upon his lips, and she was grateful to the young woman on the other end of his phone call for being able to so easily do what it seemed no one else in Edward's life was capable of—easing the burden he constantly carried upon his shoulders.

It hadn't been her intention to upset her son; she'd merely wished to do anything in her power to make his life easier. Esme hadn't known that in doing so, he'd felt she was making it harder on him. Taking a step away from the sting caused by his rejection of her willingness and desire to assist him, she could understand his feelings on the matter. She didn't like it, didn't like feeling unneeded when it was obvious he needed _someone_—but she understood it. And she was comforted in the knowledge that the person he was choosing to turn to, wittingly or not, could do more for him than she, herself, or anyone else in their family could.

In the weeks that Esme had watched Edward and Bella's friendship blossom, she'd become aware of just how similar the pair were. _Kindred souls_ her mind had whispered to her time and time again; each as rare as a rose budding in the winter, secretly full of life but just needing a bit of warmth cast upon them to bloom and show their beauty to the world.

Yes, Bella could do more for him because she understood him in ways that no one else could, and the thought that Edward had someone as wonderful as she to turn to warmed Esme's fragile heart.

"You okay, Esme?"

The deep voice, filled with concern and weariness from a long twenty four hour shift, hadn't startled her a bit. She turned with the same soft smile that had been upon her face as she gazed out of the kitchen window and nodded as Alec approached.

"I'm fine. Rough morning, but how many haven't been lately?"

"Who's he talking to?" Alec asked after taking a quick glimpse out of the window.

"Bella." She hadn't been conscious of it, but her smile had spread at the mention of the beautiful young woman's name.

Alec sighed to himself as he leaned against the counter, turning his to-go coffee cup in his hand as he watched Esme gaze out the window.

"He looks so happy right now," she breathed to herself as she saw him laugh.

Alec warred with himself for a handful of moments before speaking up. Part of him wanted to walk out the back door and smack Edward right upside the head and tell him to open his eyes at what had been sitting in front of his face for at least a month now, and the other part wished for Edward to remain oblivious to it for a while longer. One look at Esme, however, told him exactly how she felt upon the matter. She wanted them together—not that he didn't. He just didn't want Bella to have to pay the price of Edward jumping into something he wasn't ready for just yet.

"Let it alone, Esme." She turned to look at him with a questioning gaze. "They'll figure it out on their own when the time is right."

"I know," she sighed, nodding. "It's just, they're _so _perfect for one another. It's such a shame they hadn't met before all of this."

"That's life for ya," Alec shrugged as he moved to toss his empty cup into the trash. "So what made this morning a rough one? Anything serious, or is it just a walk on eggshells kind of day?"

Alec was exhausted, weary straight down into his bones after the grueling twenty-four he'd just come off of, and he wasn't sure he had it in him that day to deal with his best friend's volatile mood swings. Granted, Edward's mood had greatly improved since he and Bella had smoothed things out between them, but after a mere three hours of broken sleep in the last twenty-seven or so hours, Alec's tolerance for unwarranted surliness was virtually nonexistent.

"No, no...it's nothing like that," Esme shook her head as Alec tended to the dog bowls. "I just figuratively stepped on his toes."

At Alec's questioning look, Esme elaborated. "He's too independent for his own good, and all of us doing everything for him lately is just..."

"Pissing him off," Alec nodded in understanding while finishing her spoken thought. "So pretty much, he just wants us to stand back let him do his thing."

"Something like that. He said he'd ask for help if he needed it." Esme glanced down at her wristwatch and noted that she'd need to be leaving shortly to make it to work on time. "Here, let me get that. You need a shower and a few hours of sleep. I heard the scanner going off all night, you've got to be dead on your feet."

"I am...it's been a while since we've had that crazy of a shift," Alec chuckled exhaustedly as he passed off the soapy sponge he'd been using to wash the dogs' bowls. "There's no use falling asleep when, chances are, Edward will wake me in about an hour to bring him to the hospital, but a shower definitely sounds good right about now."

Though he hadn't meant to, when Alec hit the couch in the den after his shower, he'd nodded off almost instantly. By the time Edward had come back inside the house, long after he'd apologized to his mother when she stepped outside to tell him she was leaving for work, he found Alec snoring away with his feet on the coffee table and his head resting against his loosely curled fist.

"Alec," Edward called as he shook Alec's leg. Not getting a response, Edward shook it harder and Alec's eyes cracked open. "Bro...go crash in the bed upstairs."

"Can't," Alec yawned while rubbing his bloodshot eyes with the palms of his hands. "You have PT in a few hours."

"Don't worry about it. I'll call Jasper for a ride or something." Edward hoped he'd be able to get his brother up, but even if he couldn't, there was no way he could depend on Alec in the shape he was in. He knew far too well how it felt to be completely drained of energy after a sleepless shift.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, go." Edward's immediate answer to his slurred question had Alec sluggishly pushing himself up off the couch and shuffling toward the stairs. Once his heavy footsteps began traversing the upper level hallway, Edward pulled his phone back out of his pocket and called Jasper. On the third ring, unsurprisingly, the call was forwarded to his voicemail.

"Hey, it's Edward. If it's not too much to ask, I need a ride to therapy today. Hit me back when ya get this. Later."

Two hours passed without word from Jasper while Edward sat at the kitchen table, his monthly bills spread out before him; a calculator and his open checkbook left untouched amidst the mess of responsibility his eyes were feasting despairingly upon. If he weren't incapacitated by injury, his leg would be bouncing a mile a minute—a nervous tic he'd developed at a young age that helped dispel a fraction of his anxious energy. Instead, having no way to rid himself of the unpleasant feeling, he found himself returning to a different habit of his youth, one he'd been able to shake at his mother's persistent chiding—biting his fingernails.

His vision blurred and refocused a dozen times over as he stared at the sea of unpaid bills, gnawing his nails down to the tender flesh beneath while the same thought running through his head repeatedly.

_Five months_.

He'd only be able to pay his bills for another five months. The beginning of that sixth month would mark the start of the descent down the downward spiral his entire life was about to embark on. In three months, tops, from the start of that sixth month, he'd lose it all. Everything he'd ever worked himself half to death for would be seized, repossessed, and foreclosed upon.

All his life, Edward had always had a plan for anything and everything life could challenge him with, but he didn't have one now. After spending twenty nine years of making plans, and contingency plans to fall back on in the event he needed to do so, he was at a loss as to how to avoid the bottomless pit his life was about to sink into.

"I'm screwed," he groaned to no one other than himself as his fingers moved from his mouth to run through his hair.

He'd been just about to call Jasper again, after realizing he had only a little over an hour until he needed to leave for his therapy session, but the phone rang just as he enclosed his fingers around it.

"Hello?" he answered.

"Hey, bro," Emmett's voice filtered through the line over the sound of a station truck's diesel engine. "Listen, Jasper called. He can't make it there on time, some job interview or something, so Rosie's gonna pick you up after her doctor's appointment. She should be there by eleven thirty at the latest, okay?"

"Yeah sure."

"Everything alright, bro?" Emmett asked, covering his opposite ear to hear better as he strode quickly away from the loud truck getting ready to be backed into the station bay. He'd thought he'd heard something off in his brother's voice, but with all the commotion around him, he couldn't be sure.

"Yeah..." Edward trailed off, running a hand through his hair as he stared at the wall across from him. Shaking it off, he cleared his throat and shook his head. "It's fine, Em. Everything's fine."

"Okay." Emmett paused, torn between believing him and pushing for the truth of what was bothering him.

"Emmett, really," Edward sighed, not wanting his brother to worry himself over problems that weren't his own. He had enough on his plate as it was. "I'm good, bro. Everything's good."

An hour later, Edward still remained at the kitchen table, trying to find every last corner he could cut to stretch his savings as far as he could manage. When Rosalie and Ian arrived, promptly at quarter after eleven, just fifteen minutes before he needed to leave for therapy, she found him slumped in his chair and holding his face in his hands. He looked downright miserable.

"Hey, you okay?" she asked with quiet concern as she placed Ian and his infant carrier on the table.

Edward rubbed his face roughly and leaned back in his chair, propping his head on one of his fists. With a tight smile, he nodded. She pulled up a chair beside him and lowered herself into it as Edward reached out to gently stroke the back of Ian's little hand with his finger. A soft smile crossed his lips when Ian babbled at him and wrapped his pudgy hand around the tip of Edward's finger.

"Edward, honestly," Rose urged gently, turning her gaze back to him after taking in the stacks of bills laid atop the table and the chaotic scrawling upon the notepad before him. "What's wrong?"

Edward shook his head and sighed to himself, gently caressing Ian's hand with his thumb. "I have to sell the truck. I can't afford to keep making payments on it and the insurance when I can't even drive it."

"I wish we could help," Rosalie replied sadly. "Emmett's been wanting to replace the Jeep for a while now, but until I can finish my field hours and take the paramedic exam, we can't afford to even _think_ about it. I'm not even sure I'll be able to find a job once I'm certified because there's _nothing_ open right now."

"How many hours do you have left?" Edward asked, successfully diverting their conversation away from his financial troubles.

"Two hundred and twenty, or so," she grimaced. "I'd have been able to complete it before Ian was born if I hadn't been so damn sick through the first half of my pregnancy."

"You'll finish 'em," he shrugged, pulling his hand back from the baby. "And don't worry about a job. Les Cassidy at Medic two has expecting your application."

"Edward," she blurted, her eyes widened in shock. "You didn't."

He nodded with a hint of a grin, "I did...way back when you first started the program. I think Carlisle put a word in for you at Medic five, too, but honestly, I think you'd be better off working with Les's crew."

Rosalie's brow furrowed as she gently rocked Ian's carrier. "Why's that?"

"Because five runs with us," he answered pointedly, hoping she'd understand his reasoning. However, the pursing of her lips as she looked down at her lap and narrowed her eyes, told him otherwise.

"Rosalie, it's not that I didn't want to work with you or anything like that. It's just...look at how what happened to me affected Jasper. What if you were on Medic five and working with us and something like this happened again to me, or Pop...or Emmett? You wouldn't be in a state of mind to do _anyone_ any good."

He hadn't wanted to plant that seed of possibility in her head for her to worry constantly over, as if she didn't already, but he needed her to understand his reasoning behind why she shouldn't work so closely with them. Working side by side with his brothers for the last few years had done nothing but solidify his belief that family shouldn't work together in their field. It was just too damn dangerous.

Edward had long since lost count of how many times he'd not only put himself at risk to save one of them, but had made mistakes while doing so at the same time, simply because he couldn't keep his head on straight knowing it was someone he loved that was in danger. His mistakes while driven by his emotions could have gotten him hurt, but in Rosalie's future position, it wouldn't be herself she was putting at risk. It'd be her patient. With a life hanging in the balance, her ability to keep her head clear and emotions separate from her job would be imperative, because a simple thoughtless mistake had the potential of being the difference between life and death.

"Yeah...I get that," she finally sighed.

"Besides," he chuckled. "Would you really want to run the risk of getting stuck on Jessica's shift if you joined Medic five?"

At that, Rosalie burst out laughing as she shook her head. "Not if I don't want to get fired my first day for beating a bitch after what she did to you."

"Ah...I see how it is," he laughed, quirking a brow at her. "And here I always thought your lack of physical displays of affection meant you didn't care, but here you are, willing to lay the smack-down in my honor."

"Shut up, smartass," she sniggered as she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Her voice was soft and saturated with adoration when she spoke again while rubbing his shoulder blade. "You know I love you. I'm just not a touchy feely kind of person."

At the beginning of his therapy session, Edward found himself lying face down on a padded table with electrode pads stuck to various places on his back and the backs of his legs. Seth sat beside him, manipulating the controls of the nerve stimulator and recording Edward's muscle "twitches", while simultaneously carrying on casual conversation. Edward listened, trying not to laugh as Seth recounted a hilarious tale from his teen years when he and his cousin had convinced Bella that the first day of high school every year was pajama day.

"So Jake and I show up at the bus stop, and I kid you not, there she stands wearing pink plaid pajama bottoms, some shirt with a bunny that says '_you stink_' on it, and fluffy pink bunny slippers. We about _died_ laughing..."

Edward had been mid-laugh when his left calf muscle contracted painfully and he cried out as his hand slammed down onto the padded surface of the table.

"_Fuck_," he groaned when it relaxed again. "That one hurt like hell."

"Sorry, man," Seth said sincerely as he turned the handheld machine off and began to remove the electrodes from Edward. "So you want the good news, or the bad news first?"

"Good...then maybe I can ignore the bad," Edward deadpanned in response.

Seth just laughed as he wiped down Edward's skin to remove any of the sticky residue left behind. "Good news is the delay in your twitches, or muscle contractions, is improving. The bad news is by the time you leave here today, you might love me, and I don't swing that way."

"What?" Edward barked out a bewildered laugh as Seth helped maneuver him into a sitting position.

"Today you're going to be taking your first steps, my man," Seth grinned.

"I'm...not following." Edward's brow furrowed as he shook his head. He couldn't even stand on his own, so how was he supposed to _walk_?

Edward listened patiently as Seth explained the harness he'd be suspended from over a treadmill, and with the help of him and two other aides, he'd be effectively "walking". Seth had referred to it as locomotor training, and claimed that it would benefit him in more ways than one.

"It's been shown to be highly effective in retraining the spinal cord to control muscle movements below the level of injury in cases like yours, where the spinal injury has been diagnosed as incomplete," Seth continued, truly hopeful that Edward would experience some of the miraculous results he'd seen in some of his past patients.

It had been an amazing feeling for Seth in the past, to have been able to watch a previously partially paralyzed patient of his walk away from him and the center. He felt this way for all of his patients that came to him with various injuries and inabilities; it was humbling and awe inspiring to be able to stand beside his patients as they navigated their journeys toward healing and overcame their trying obstacles.

Helping others through the recovery process, both physically and mentally, had been his life's ambition from a young age—ever since his Uncle Billy had been injured in an automobile accident when Seth was just seven years old. It had been the same accident that had killed his Aunt Sara.

He'd vowed back then to make it his life's work to help others just like his uncle, but where others had failed him, Seth was resolved to succeed. When his patients began to lose hope, he'd double his efforts to keep that spark alive in them, because without hope—they had no drive to fight for what they desperately wanted.

Edward had the drive. He was willing to fight for his recovery with everything in him. Every session they worked together, Edward gave one hundred and ten percent with no complaint, and Seth admired that about him. If any of his patients had the drive to succeed, he did, and Seth was fully prepared to do everything in his power to ensure that the day Edward left the center for the final time, he did so upon his own two feet.

"It's worked in others like me?" Edward asked curiously as he transferred himself back into his wheelchair.

Seth nodded as he squatted before him. "It has, and in some cases, it's helped patients in far worse condition. Clinically, you _know_ I can't give you any definitive guarantees, but I truly believe this is something you can overcome. I'm not saying it'll be easy, because it's going to take a lot of hard work, but it _is_ possible, Edward. Remember what we talked about last week?"

"Yeah," he confirmed with a slight nod as he rubbed his thighs. "My nerve passageways aren't severed—just confused, and my legs are really weak partly because of the injury and partly because I haven't really used those muscles in two months...but you called it something else."

"Atrophy," Seth provided. "Which we're attacking aggressively right now because we don't want it to get worse. Are you still having someone help you with exercises at home?"

"Yeah, but not as often as last week because I've been at the hospital with Bella nearly all week."

Edward spoke as he followed behind Seth back out into the main area of the center where all the equipment was, and right up to the treadmill they'd be using. As Seth disconnected the harness from the machine, Edward's gaze roamed the open area, looking for Rosalie. Upon spotting her, she smiled softly at him and gave a little wave as she coddled baby Ian in her arms.

"I really want you to keep on top of the exercises outside of here, okay? Our two biggest obstacles standing between you walking and that wheelchair are retraining your muscles to respond to the commands your brain sends, and building your lower body strength so you can support your own weight. The more exercise you can tolerate now to keep the atrophy from progressing, the better shape we'll be in down the road."

"Okay...more exercises, got it," Edward nodded as a man and woman came to stand beside Seth.

"I'm holding you to that," Seth chuckled, pointing at him before looking to his side. "This is Jimmy and Cheryl. They're going to be maneuvering your legs to simulate walking once we get you all hooked up. I'll be standing behind you to help keep your hips stable. So...are you ready to walk?"

Edward's gaze flicked from the harness in Seth's hands, to the treadmill, and then to Seth and his assistants, as a grin began to cross his lips.

"Damn right I am."

He'd never been more ready for anything in his life.

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**A/N****: Merry Christmas! Okay, so it's still a few days away, but I'm feeling a little jolly and felt like doing a little early gift giving because you, my readers, are completely freaking AWESOME! So here's my gift to you, this week will be a 2-fer ^_^ Happy Holidays everyone! See ya again on Thursday!**


	30. Chapter 29

Disclaimer: Twilight character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. All intellectual properties associated with _Through the Flames_ belong to SparklingTwilight. Plagiarism is theft. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization. Thank you.

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To Find Strength Outside One's Self

The slipping of September into October brought with it not only a drop in temperatures, but a drastic drop in Edward's spirits as well. The last week of the previous month had been one of the hardest ever for him. In just one week he'd sold his beloved truck and had faced the most difficult financial decision of his life.

Just a few years short of paying his house off—after spending the last five years of nearly killing himself to make double payments as often as possible on his fifteen year mortgage—Edward came to the conclusion that the only way he'd survive his impending financial ruin, was to refinance his home. He felt as though all his hard work over the past decade was being flushed down the drain right before his very eyes, and to make matters worse, that very same week marked Bella's return to work.

Gone were the days of having her near constant support and comforting companionship. Left in her wake was what seemed to be a revolving door of family members and friends—and most damagingly, with them accompanied the persistent reminder of everything he'd lost and was fighting daily to regain.

One would think that Bella's presence in Edward's life would have served as the painful reminder of what he'd sacrificed so she could live. But, on the contrary, it wasn't her presence that served as that glaring reminder. It was the seemingly constant squawks and tones over the two-way radios carried by his brother, father, and friends; the lingering, pungent odor of smoke and soot that clung to their skin and clothes after a long shift; the excitement and adrenaline that brimmed and spilled over in his presence while they enthusiastically recounted ferocious battles with the fiery beasts they'd emerged from victoriously—while he sat stagnant and useless on the sidelines.

Until Bella had returned to work, he hadn't realized just how effective she was at buoying the effects of those constant reminders that surrounded him. She reminded him not of what he'd lost, but of what his sacrifice had been worth, and that alone spared him from drowning in the bitterness of his desperate longing to return to his life's calling. But now, as her presence dwindled to an inkling of its previous near constancy, he was finding himself sinking rather than treading in the deep, murky, and turbulent waters of his unfulfilled desires.

At the sound of yet another series of tones squealing through a handheld EMS/Fire scanner, Edward's gaze broke away from the churning storm clouds outside the car window. His head snapped to the side, a fierce scowl on his face as he looked at Emmett beside him in the driver's seat.

"Will you shut that damn thing _off _already?"

His angry bark only earned a disheartened sigh from Emmett as he reached up to the visor to silence the device. Never in their lives had his brother ever been bothered by the noise that filtered through the radios. Edward owned multiple scanners that he had rarely, if ever, turned off—at least, he never had before the night of the N. Orchard Street fire that had nearly taken his life.

Emmett understood how difficult it had to be for his brother to be sidelined from the career that had encompassed nearly every aspect of his life. Edward loved the job; lived for it. It was because of his passion for their line of work that Emmett was saddened by Edward's recent distancing of himself to anything fire department related. It worried him endlessly the further his brother pulled himself away from what had been his greatest love—what had defined and sculpted who he was down to the very core.

Edward was a firefighter. There was no question about it; there had never been a moment of indecision in his life regarding it. Where some wander through life in search of their calling, Edward had been born with the knowledge of his. It was in his very blood, and Emmett worried that without it, his brother would lose any sense of self-identity he'd ever known. And as he thought about that, he finally understood why his brother had said he'd never regret saving Bella, but he might regret surviving. From what Emmett was beginning to see, it was entirely possible that he was already beginning to.

"Are you ready?" Emmett asked quietly, realizing his brother seemed oblivious to their arrival at the physical rehabilitation center. His gaze had been locked out of the passenger side window for the last ten minutes, but it took little for Emmett to understand Edward wasn't seeing anything beyond the rain droplet flecked glass.

At the sound of his brother's voice, Edward sighed to himself and nodded as he unbuckled his seatbelt. Within just a few short minutes, he was wheeling himself into the building where, undoubtedly, nothing would differ from the day before. He'd spend the next few hours doing the same exercises, being physically manipulated in the same ways as every other day, and at the end of it, he'd wheel himself back out feeling a few shades more hopeless than he had the previous day. As expected, October's days stretched on into weeks of monotonous activity, where one day was impossible to distinguish from the next, and Edward slipped further and further back into the dagger-like clutches of depression.

A loud clap of thunder, strong enough to shake the entire building, startled Bella out of the trance-like state she'd been in for the last forty-five minutes while watching the hellacious storm wreak havoc outside her office window. She shared the spacious room with seven other people; all of which were currently out of the building either running errands for one of the city prosecutors, digging through case files in the courthouse file room, or were down at the library researching information for a newly acquired case. She, herself, at that moment, should have been tending to at least one of the dozens of tasks she needed to complete before heading home for the weekend, but her focus that day had exited the building long before she'd even stepped foot into it.

Her thoughts were circling nowhere in the vicinity of which dockets she needed to gather from the courthouse, or which court rulings from a similar case from decades before would assist Jay in achieving the conviction and sentence he was seeking for some nameless, faceless defendant. Instead, Bella's mind was swirling around the one name and face that had taken up permanent residence in her thoughts.

_Edward_.

She was worried about him. Ever since she'd returned to work— returned to the career she'd once buried herself in to keep from lamenting over the areas of her life which were glaringly empty and unfulfilled—she hadn't been able to take her mind off of his rapidly deteriorating mental state. Her worries over him plagued her mind constantly from the time she woke up in the morning, until the time she finally succumbed to her exhaustion and fell into a fitful sleep.

She couldn't keep going the way she was. Her ability to focus at work was becoming increasingly difficult as the days wore on, and the little to no sleep she was getting each night wasn't helping matters any. The surreptitious glances of concern that had been tossed in her direction when she'd first returned had begun to turn into full on judgmental gazes. If her lack of focus continued, she had no doubt her ability to perform her job would soon come into question, and that was something she truly couldn't afford to have happen.

Like her, Edward couldn't keep going the way he was either. Progress in his physical therapy had been slight and slow-coming, and often left him suffering for hours afterwards from uncontrollable spasms in his legs. It was heart wrenching to see him in such discomfort, but even worse than the physical pain was being able to see the mental anguish he was suffering. With each day that passed where his tremendous efforts brought forth no distinguishable change in his condition, she witnessed him lose another ounce of hope that he'd one day walk again. She worried that if he didn't show any signs of improvement, and soon, he'd give up entirely.

Something needed to change or they were _both _going to go down like sinking ships in the middle of a desolate ocean.

Bella sighed to herself as she glanced at the stacks of files on her desk that she needed to bring back to the courthouse, and quickly looked at her watch. She should have had them returned over an hour ago. If she had any luck at all, she'd be able to complete her tasks and make it to Edward's just in time to tidy up a bit before the guys from the station arrived for their once traditional weekly poker night. Why they'd chosen last minute to move their game night venue from Felix's place, to Edward's, Bella didn't have the slightest clue. She just hoped that a night with the guys would be just the distraction from the constant stress and mental battles that he desperately needed.

After two trips back and forth from her office to load the two stacks of case files into her trunk, Bella sat in the driver's seat and eyed the highlighted name in her cell phone's contact list with wary contemplation. Knowing she'd be short on time, even if she managed to finish all of her tasks without further distraction, she released her lip from the vice of her teeth and pressed the button her finger had been hovering over.

Two rings later, a voice answered over the high pitched wail of a baby's cry.

"Rosalie? It's Bella..." she replied, a slight case of nerves making her voice tremble. It didn't sound as though Ian was having a good day, and she hoped her call wouldn't be the proverbial pebble disturbing the calm waters between them over the past few weeks. She and Rosalie hadn't made mile-long strides in forming a friendship, but there'd been a tremendous relief of tension in the air between them. "I might need to ask a favor of you."

"I might, or might not, be able to grant you one," Rose replied, and Bella breathed a sigh of relief at her teasing tone. She'd take teasing over cold and abrasive any day of the week. "What do you need?"

"I was going to make some nachos and buffalo wings for the guys tonight, but I was too tired to go to the store last night on my way home, and I won't have enough time to swing by the store, tidy up, _and_ have the food made before they get there. Is there any chance you could do a small grocery run for me? I'll give Emmett the money to cover the bill tonight."

"Yeah, I can do that," Rose answered as Ian wailed even louder. "It's coming cranky pants. Mommy doesn't have ten hands, you know."

"Lunch time?" Bella chuckled.

"Every three hours on the dot. He's nothing if not punctual when it comes to his bottle. _Crap_," Rosalie huffed suddenly. "Let me get off of here. I just dumped the damn container of formula all over the floor. Just text me the list."

Bella was about to thank her when she heard a clatter and the call disconnected.

"Well that could have gone worse," she mumbled to herself as she started her car. After a quick text to Rose, composed of the shopping list and a thank you, Bella headed off toward the courthouse.

Across town, lying flat on his back on a padded mat, Edward tried to drown out both Seth and Emmett's voices. He didn't have it in him in that moment to push himself the way he did during every previous session. He was tired—physically and mentally drained, his back throbbed with a relentless ache that wouldn't ease no matter what Seth did to attempt to relieve it, and his left shoulder was sore from having slept on it wrong the previous night.

"C'mon, man. You can do this," Seth encouraged, sitting to Edward's right with one hand curled beneath his ankle, and the other pressed against the back of his knee.

An angry tear of hopelessness slipped out of the corner of Edward's eye and quickly disappeared into his hair as he shook his head.

"I can't. Every day I try, and every goddamn day I can't do it. I give...it's been two fucking months of this shit. I give."

"The hell you do," Emmett growled, pissed at the defeat he was hearing in his brother's voice. "You've never giving up on a damn thing in your life and you're not starting with this. Now _try_."

"Not today...please, just not today," Edward shook his head again while gritting his teeth to fight back the tears he didn't want to shed. "I can't fail again today...I just fucking _can't_."

"Alright, c'mon...let's sit you up," Seth sighed, removing his hands from Edward's leg and moving to help him up.

"That's it? You're just gonna let him give up?" Emmett barked, incredulous and angry.

"No, that's not it," Seth answered, shaking his head as he braced Edward's back with one arm as he pushed himself up. "Rehabilitation doesn't just focus on the physical aspects of an injury or illness. The mental aspect of it is just as important, and today, we're going to focus on that part."

"C'mon. Let's get you back in your chair. I want you to meet someone," Seth said after taking a quick glance around the room.

After Seth excused himself, saying he'd be right back, Emmett crouched down in front of his brother. "You really want to throw in the towel this early in the game?"

"No, Em...I just can't do it _today_." His head tilted back and his eyes focused on one of the fluorescent lights in the ceiling as a million thoughts passed through his mind.

"I don't understand, bro. Talk to me. What makes today different than yesterday or tomorrow?"

Edward was silent for moments on end as he thought about how to answer that question. In truth, there wasn't anything distinguishably different between the days other than his current lack of ability to just push himself through it. That was the only difference, and it wasn't one that Emmett could really understand. Or maybe he could...

"Have you ever just needed a day away from everything?" he asked, lifting his head and looking at his brother. "I mean like _everything_, Em. Responsibilities, your surroundings, people..._life_."

"Kind of," Emmett responded with a slight nod and half shrug. "So what do you want to do? I can't afford to take any time off, but..."

"That's not it, Emmett," Edward groaned. "I don't want to _do _anything. That was just the only way I could explain why today is different. It's just too much today..._everything _is too much to deal with today."

"I've heard that before...actually, I've said it before."

Emmett turned and Edward's eyes darted up at the unfamiliar voice intruding upon their conversation to see a young man hobbling toward them with the assistance of a walker.

"Edward, Emmett...this is Aaron," Seth introduced, walking slowly beside the young man.

"Give me a minute, or ten," he joked as he made slow progress toward them. Once he was within reach, he extended his right hand in greeting while bracing himself with his left still upon the handle of the walker.

Seth walked off and returned only a minute later with a chair for Aaron and then, once Aaron was settled, assumed the same squatting position that Emmett remained in.

"So I hear you're having a bit of a crap day," Aaron commented. At Edward's reluctant nod, he continued. "I've been there before...still have them from time to time."

"Aaron has been with us here for quite some time, haven't ya, buddy?" Seth chuckled.

"How long? What happened?" Emmett asked curiously.

"Just under three and a half years," he answered with a bob of his head. "Got into a car wreck in January of oh-five."

Edward's brow furrowed as his mind automatically caught the discrepancy in time between when he'd been in his accident and when he'd started physical therapy at the center. "Were you in rehab somewhere else before here?"

Aaron shook his head, a half grin crossing his lips. "No, when I woke up they told me I'd never walk again. Said there'd been too much damage."

"But you're walking..."

Aaron and Seth shared a glance as they laughed. When Aaron looked back at Edward, he nodded. "That I am, and with one leg, too."

He pulled up the leg of his track pants to show off his titanium prosthetic leg, and shrugged after lowering it back down. "I was eighteen, and stupid. A bunch of friends and I went to a party on a New Year's Eve and got wasted. My buddy swore he was sober enough to drive when we left...so we got in the car with him.

"I don't remember really anything of what happened; one minute we were cruisin' along, and the next, we were rolling down the road. When I came to, my parents told me I'd been ejected halfway out of the car during one of the rolls, and my leg had been severed clear off when it flipped again."

"_Holy_..." Emmett gaped, stunned and unable to believe he'd even _survived_.

Edward, however, had to look away. As soon as the kid had described what had happened to him, vivid flashes of that late night call began assaulting his mind. His crew and Medic five had been the first on scene. he could remember every single detail of that horrific scene.

There'd been at least two inches of snow on the ground from a storm that had blown through just after Christmas, and it was sleeting that night. The roads had been a disaster just waiting to happen, and it did at precisely three-nineteen am. When they'd arrived on scene, the mangled late model Ford Taurus had been resting upside down on the opposite side of the highway and two bodies had been sprawled across the pavement.

Edward could vividly remember every thought that had passed through his head when he'd had to drape a tarp over Aaron's friend's lifeless body, while Aaron lay just twenty feet away, screaming and crying as medics tended to him. He could remember looking at the deceased boy's face and seeing Emmett's face instead, lifeless with wide open eyes. The boy wasn't much younger than his little brother, and he, too, was somewhere in the city, ringing in the new year with his friends.

Aaron had been the only survivor; his friends, Matthew and Daniel, were deceased on arrival. His other friend, the second passenger in the backseat, Marissa, died on scene after they'd extricated her from the twisted remains of the car. He'd never forget their names or their faces; not as long as he lived.

When Edward's gaze drifted back toward the face of the only victim of that crash he _hadn't_ seen that night, Aaron was turned in his chair and pulling up the back of his shirt. Hidden beneath it was an almost foot and a half long scar; a straight line that went straight down the center of his back—right over his spine.

"They had to put in two rods and something like sixteen screws, to fix my spine. I couldn't feel anything from mid-chest down when I woke up. I didn't even realize my leg was missing," Aaron said after lowering his shirt and turning back in his chair.

"So how'd you go from being completely paralyzed to...not? Did doctors just diagnose you wrong or something?" Emmett asked.

"No...not exactly, anyway," Aaron answered, and paused to think of how to explain it to them. My spinal cord wasn't severed, but the damage was severe enough that the doctors didn't believe there was hope in recovery, but I didn't want to believe that. My parents and I spent more than six months bouncing around from specialist to specialist getting pretty much the same opinion over and over again. Then, in September of that year, my mother had heard that a new Neuro-surgeon had signed on at the hospital, and he was supposed to be one of the best in the country, so we went to see him."

Aaron smiled to himself as he thought of the man that had given him hope when everyone else had told him there was none to be had. "Dr. Ashford told us that there's no such thing as hopeless—that people all around the world who have been given that opinion in the past, experience degrees of recovery every day. He told us that with vigorous rehabilitation therapy, anything was possible. The only problem was we couldn't afford it because I'd been dropped from my parents' insurance when I turned nineteen. My parents sold their house and we moved in with my grandparents to be able to pay for it."

Aaron knew that what he was about to say was the reason behind why Seth asked him to meet Edward. When you reach the low points of recovery, sometimes the best way to keep hope alive is to be able to hear someone else's story of hardships and obstacles while being able to see their miracle with your own two eyes. Revitalization of his own hope had come by way of a woman named Carol—who he still talked to on a regular basis to that day.

"At the end of the first year, it felt like the sacrifices they'd made had been for nothing. I'd barely recovered any kind of sensation, and I still couldn't move anything. But my family, friends, and the people here kept pushing and encouraging me to keep fighting. So I did," Aaron grinned. "And slowly over the course of the next year I started making progress. Sometimes it was so minimal that I couldn't even tell, but one day it was like I woke up and realized that I could feel everything from head to toe, when just a year before, I couldn't feel _anything_."

Seth laughed as he clapped Aaron on the back. He'd just been an aide back then, during Aaron's first year, but he could remember it like it was yesterday. "We started making leaps and bounds after that, didn't we?"

"Yeah, something like that, anyway," Aaron chuckled before looking back and forth between Edward and Emmett. He was still smiling as he focused on Edward, and spoke solely to him. "There's no such thing as hopeless, Edward. They told me that and you watched me walk toward you. Keep fighting, man. It's hard, I know—but it's worth it in the end."

"So whattaya say, Edward? Ready to start again?" Seth asked as Emmett reached over to grip the back of Edward's neck in a show of support.

"Yeah...I think I am."

If that kid could do it when his injury had been far worse than his own, Edward believed he could do it, too. For the remaining hour and a half of his session, Edward gave everything he had, and more. And even when nothing miraculous happened, and he could feel no physical difference, Aaron's words kept him from feeling entirely defeated. Tomorrow was another day, and he'd try again.

"Hey," Seth called, jogging up to Edward and Emmett as they made their way toward the exit. "Aaron wanted me to give this to you."

He handed a slip of paper to him and smiled. "Ya did good today, man. I'll see you Monday, same time, same place. I'll bring my A-game if you bring yours."

"You got it," Edward chuckled, nodding. When Seth turned away, he turned the paper over and was met with Aaron's number and a note.

_When the going gets tough, someone who gets it is just a phone call away - Aaron_

* * *

**A/N****: Sooo...a lot of questions are arising about Edward's financial situation, so I figured I'd clear up some confusion about it here. **

**The systems that we have in place here in the U.S. - Disability, Social Security, & Workman's Comp - are helpful, but are not without flaws. The medical bills Edward incurred while in the hospital **_**will**_** be paid in full as it was a work related injury (this will come up in a future chapter). However, once he's out of the hospital, Workman's Comp controls every aspect of his healthcare relating to the injuries he sustained, and WC is not perfect. Anyone who's ever had to deal with WC for a prolonged period of time can tell you that it's often more of a headache than it is a help because they dictate which doctors you can see, how often you can see them, **_**when**_** you see them, and how much of your care they will cover based on what they deem "necessary". There's no uniformity to the system - what one person receives, another may be denied, etc. But the initial bills stemming from the accident in the fire will most definitely be covered.**

**As for disability - in a previous chapter it was revealed that he'd begun receiving disability payments, but they weren't anywhere near what he'd been making while actively working. Disability payments are usually issued in a range of somewhere between 60-80% of someone's base salary. Edward had long since been accustomed to working heavy amounts of overtime & disability doesn't factor that additional income into what they pay out, so what Edward is receiving literally is less than half of what he'd been accustomed to bringing home, and herein lies the instigating factor to why Edward is stressing out over his finances. **

**From the very beginning, Edward was cast as a very financially savvy, stable, and responsible person, and it's because of this that he's planning out his budget on a worst-case scenario basis (more bills & less money to pay them with). So Edward isn't quite off as bad as he's thinking, but he will have to make some changes to stretch the income he has coming in now to be able to cover all of his financial responsibilities.**

**Whew! Man am I glad that's out of the way! LOL. Thank you all so much for the holiday wishes. I hope all of your holidays are filled with joy, laughter, and if you're anything like me... a few bottles of wine to cope with the family hahahaha. Merry Christmas & Happy Holidays everyone! See ya's next week =) **


	31. Chapter 30

Disclaimer: Twilight character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. All intellectual properties associated with _Through the Flames_ belong to SparklingTwilight. Plagiarism is theft. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization. Thank you.

* * *

A Change in Perspective

As Emmett navigated their way through the streets of Tacoma, heading back toward home after Edward's grueling and stressful therapy session, Edward silently contemplated asking his brother to call off the pending gathering that night. He was tired, grumpy, and wasn't feeling up to pretending to be anything but. The dilemma was, Edward acknowledged that his brother's intentions and thoughts had been in the right place when he'd made the plans, and he didn't want to make him feel as though his efforts were unappreciated. They'd nearly arrived home when Edward finally decided to voice his desire for a postponement of the night's festivities when he spotted Alec's car parked alongside the curb in front of the house.

"Isn't Alec supposed to be working today?" Edward asked, looking from the car to his brother with a furrowed brow.

"Yeah...at least I thought so, anyway."

After putting Rosalie's car in park, Emmett hopped out into the rain and quickly removed Edward's wheelchair from the backseat. He tried to shield his brother from as much of the pelting droplets as he could, but by the time they reached the front door, they were both saturated from the torrential downpour.

"Alec?" Edward called out, wheeling himself toward the kitchen and leaving tracks of water behind him on the hardwood flooring. "Where ya at, man?"

"Den," he called back just as Edward turned the corner toward it.

"Why aren't you at work?"

"Commish is having a fit over the massive amount of OT being dished out lately," Alec answered with a slight grimace. A fit would have been putting it lightly. "Since I'm already a shift over for the week, Carlisle had no choice but to send me home."

"That sucks. It sounded like you guys were busy earlier, too," Edward commented as Emmett waltzed into the room, brandishing a towel in his direction. He'd already made a quick sweep down the hallway to dry up the trail Edward had left behind him, knowing it was something that would have irritated his brother at one point in time.

"We were...they still are. It's the damn wind out there, it's knocking transformers and power lines down all over the place."

As Edward passed the towel through his rain drenched hair, Alec wondered how his therapy session went, but he was wary of bringing it up. The subject had become so overly touchy as of late that, more often than not, Alec found himself choosing to let Edward take the initiative to talk about it when, or if, he felt the desire to. Unfortunately, he needed to talk to his best friend about something, and if he was as stressed out as he'd been the past week or so upon returning from his sessions, what he needed to relay would only exacerbate that strain.

"Spit it out before you choke on it, Alec," Edward grumbled. Never before had he been reluctant to speak whatever was on his mind, and the obviousness with which Alec was hesitating was setting him on edge. If it was bad news, he'd rather his friend just blurt it out; get it over with so the sting would fade quicker.

"I was talking to Tyler this morning...he overheard the Chief and the Commish going at it yesterday," Alec said and then cleared his throat. "From what he heard, if you're not back by the end of the month, Guseman will be stepping up to Lieutenant."

"Fucking hell..." Edward groaned as his head fell back.

"What's the big deal, bro?" Emmett asked, sincerely not understanding the issue. "It's probably only temporary until you come back."

"Em, it's taken me ten years to get where I am. _Ten fucking years_," Edward ground out angrily. "Guseman's not just gonna step down when I come back. Shit doesn't work that way."

"Where are you going?" Emmett asked as Edward turned his chair quickly and wheeled himself away.

"To take a shower. I don't want to talk, or even _think_, about this bullshit right now," he grumbled in reply as he snatched up a pair of sweatpants from the laundry basket at the foot of his bed.

Once under the steaming spray of the shower, Edward leaned back against the wall and tried to allow the heat of the water to wash away the stress eating away at him. It seemed like no matter what he did, or how hard he tried, he couldn't catch a break. He felt ready to explode out of his skin with his chaotic emotions; the constant flux of highs and lows that left him feeling battered and raw at the end of each and every single day.

"When will this ever end?" he mumbled to himself as he put his face in his hands. The steady stream of water rained down over his head and flowed over the tense muscles of his shoulders and back as he lost himself in a world where the only sounds were that of the beat of the water against him and his own thoughts.

Three months had passed since the night of the fire, and, if anything, the condition of his life was getting worse, not better. Every new day was proving to be more exhausting to push himself through than the preceding one. At what point was he going to wake up without an ounce of will to fight for what he'd once been so determined to achieve? He'd already reached his breaking point earlier that day, and the news of a possible demotion was the proverbial feather threatening to push him over the edge.

A knock at the bathroom door before he heard it open, made Edward pull his face up from his hands.

"You okay, Edward? You've been in there for almost an hour," Alec's concerned voice echoed slightly within the confined space.

"I'm fine." He lied. He wasn't fine; not even anywhere near the vicinity of fine. If he had been, he would have felt the chill beginning to set in the water pounding against his naked flesh. He would have been aware of how long he'd been sitting beneath the rapidly cooling rush of water, motionless, drowning in his misery.

The bathroom door closed with a muted thud and a soft click, but Alec remained in the room. Edward could hear him move his wheelchair and lower the toilet seat, and without peering beyond the veil of the shower curtain, Edward knew he'd sat down upon it.

"That's a load of crap. Talk to me, man. What's going through that head of yours?" Alec asked, assuming the most comfortable position he could while crammed between the sink and a support bar.

Edward reached forward and slammed his hand down over the lever to shut the shower off. The water was just getting too damn cold for comfort and thoroughly washing himself would take at least another ten minutes beneath the frigid stream. Without a word, Alec grabbed a towel and pushed it between the curtain and wall for Edward to take. Minutes of silence passed between the men as Edward continued to sit motionless on his shower perch, dripping wet with the towel resting in his lap.

"Did you hear the joke of the day?" Alec asked, his voice tinged with audibly false amusement.

"No," Edward sighed, not really in the mood for a joke, but Alec continued, just as he knew he would.

"Newton got himself a girlfriend."

Try as he might to fight it off, the smallest of smiles graced his melancholic face. "You don't say."

"Yep...she's pretty cute, too. I feel bad for her though, dating Newton and all."

At that, a chuckle finally broke through, and though it only lasted the merest of moments, it achieved what Alec had been hoping for. Edward opened up to him.

"I'm never gonna fight another fire again...am I?"

Alec had known this was coming. In fact, he felt it was long overdue. With the silencing of the scanners in the house within his first week home, came the waiting game as to when, or if, Edward would ever voice his greatest fear.

"Not if you don't think you will," he responded truthfully. "If you give up, you'll have a definite answer...but it won't be the one you want. Keep fighting, and the possibility of a different one will always be there."

"I don't know how much more I can take, man. I really don't," Edward admitted, shaking his head. Droplets of water fell from his hair and ran down his skin, looking like the tears he'd shed that blended into the streams of water that flowed over him and disappeared down the drain.

"Stop dwelling on the bad and focus on the good, and you'll be able to take a lot more than you think," Alec offered encouragingly. At Edward's scoff, he sighed. "Look at it this way...Workman's Comp is covering all of your medical and rehabilitation bills. The bank may have turned you down for refinancing your original loan amount, but they _did _refinance what you still owed, and that brought it down to a payment you can make with what you're bringing in from Disability. Yeah, money's gonna be tight as hell, but it's manageable and you won't lose your house.

"If you need more than that to remind you that everything hasn't gone to shit, look at what you've gained out of this whole thing—Bella, the Swans..._your_ _own family_."

Of all that Edward had lost in that fire, he'd gained just as much in Alec's eyes; if not more. His parents were finally putting him first for once, Emmett had done a complete one-eighty and they were well on their way to repairing their damaged friendship, and Jasper...well Jasper was still just Jasper, but at least he was taking steps to fix his life on his own for once. And then there were the Swans. Their continued support, kindness, and friendship was a blessing no one could have expected or even begun to hope for.

"Just focus on the good of what's come out of this, Edward. There are people out there that have to go through what you are with no one to support them. You've got that much at least."

"Yeah, I guess," Edward sighed, finally bringing the towel up to dry off his face and chest.

He knew he had people to support him, but the problem was, none of them could truly understand what he was going through. No one understood what it did to him to feel so defeated at the end of every day, and to not be able to look forward to the next day because he'd lost hope of anything being different; of anything changing for the better for once.

"Bella called by the way. She said she'd be late but she'll be here as soon as she can...something about someone losing a file or some shit that her boss needed first thing Monday morning," Alec informed him as he stood from the toilet seat. "Are you really up for the guys coming over tonight, or not?"

"Not really...I don't have the energy to pretend right now, and I don't want..."

"Enough said," Alec cut him off, not needing him to explain himself. "I'll divert 'em back to Felix's. You care if Em and I head over there for a while?"

"No, go," Edward answered instantly. "You guys need a break from this shit just as much as I do."

"Aiight. I'll get out of here so you can do your thing."

After Edward had finally emerged from the bathroom, Emmett and Alec made sure he was set up with anything he'd need within arm's reach before leaving for Felix's house with Tango and Cash in tow. Edward had never been more grateful for the peace and silence their departure had awarded him. Lounging on the reclining seat of his couch, Edward closed his eyes and slowly began to decompress.

As the muted, stormy daylight faded into night, he reached over to turn on the table lamp beside him. In the soft glow surrounding him, he focused on the sounds of the rain falling against the earth outside, and forced his racing thoughts to quiet. And for the first time in what felt like ages, he felt at peace—if only for a moment.

"Darn-it, Chelsea...what did you _do _with it?" Bella grumbled to herself, slamming the filing cabinet drawer shut. She'd searched high and low in every place she could think of for the missing file, and she couldn't leave without locating it. It was jam packed with copies of phone records and internet correspondences that Jay neededfor a court hearing first thing Monday morning. And of course, Chelsea had gone on vacation at the beginning of the week and Jay hadn't gotten a chance to double check the case file to ensure everything he needed was in it until just after lunch that day.

"Anything?" Jay asked, returning from checking everywhere in his office for the third time.

"No. I have no idea of where else to look either."

Bella frowned as her gaze flickered around the room. She felt horrible even though she'd had nothing to do with its missing state to begin with. The missing file had already caused Jay and his wife to miss their flight for a romantic weekend getaway in Sonoma Valley to celebrate their fifteenth wedding anniversary, and at the rate they were going, their whole trip would be awash.

"I'm calling Chelsea again," Bella sighed, picking her cell phone up off her desk and scrolling for her number.

Hopeful, but not expectant, Bella listened to the rings and prayed she wouldn't have to leave another urgent voicemail. As bad as she felt for Jay and his wife, she too had places she'd rather be at that moment other than searching for what seemed to be as utterly elusive as a needle in a haystack. She'd almost lost hope, thinking Chelsea's recorded message would kick in at any moment, when Chelsea herself answered.

"Chelsea!" Bella cried out, jumping off the desk she'd been perching on. "The Fischer correspondence file—where is it?"

"It's not in the case box? I put it back in there over two weeks ago," Chelsea responded.

"No, it's not, and we can't find it _anywhere_," Bella stressed, frustrated as she began pacing the floor.

"Hold on, give me a second and calm down." Bella continued to pace as the noise that had been in the background began to fade. "Okay. In the bottom drawer of my desk, there's a spare key taped to the underside of the drawer above it." As soon as she'd said the words, Bella was on her knees in front of the open drawer, feeling for the key she'd said would be underneath.

"It'll unlock the supply drawer on my desk, and in there, there's a portable hard drive. I scan and back up everything, so everything you'd need will be on there, but you'll have to go through all of the documents and prepare them for Jay. Do you remember what he was looking for in them?"

"No," Bella answered, sighing in relief as she grasped her salvation in her hand. "But Jay's here with me so I'm not completely up crap's creek."

"Damn, tell him I'm sorry, but I _know _I put it back in there when I was done with it."

"I will." Bella nodded as she opened up the computer folder that held the documents they'd been searching for all afternoon. "Thanks, Chelsea. Enjoy the rest of your vacation."

After a brief goodbye, Bella looked up at Jay across from her with a wary expression. "You remember specifically what you needed off of these things, right?"

"Yes," he nodded, loosening and removing his tie. "Print them out and let's get started. This is going to take a while."

Bella's heart sank as she looked at the time on the computer screen. It was already half passed six. Her heart sank even further when she called Edward's house for the second time, only to find out that their plans had been canceled—and Edward was sitting at home alone. She'd really been hoping that a night of socialization would help lift his spirits, but instead, he was choosing to wallow in solitude.

For nearly three hours, Bella and Jay sorted through countless documents, highlighting, making side-notes, and cross-referencing information to points in Jay's arguments. When the last sheet of paper had been filed away into the spot where it should have been to begin with, Bella all but ran out of the building with Jay hot on her tail. If he hurried, he and his wife would be able to make the last flight out to San Francisco.

By the time she pulled into Edward's driveway just before ten at night, Bella was dead on her feet. It took nearly every last bit of energy she had in her just to pull herself from the car and walk up to the front door of the dark house. If he hadn't answered his phone when she'd called to say she was on her way, the lack of illumination from beyond the front windows would have made her assume he'd gone to bed.

Walking through the front door, she kicked the shoes off her tired feet and hung her damp jacket on the knob of the closet door in the entryway before padding barefoot down the hall toward the den. Turning the corner, she finally spotted him, sitting in the silent room with nothing but the lamp on beside him. No TV airing a program he wasn't even watching, no fire scanner broadcasting voices or blaring tones, no music fill the empty air. Just him, sitting in complete silence with his eyes closed and his fingers rubbing against his forehead.

"Hey, I'm here," she said softly as his eyes cracked open to see her leaning against the wall at the room's entryway. "Are you up for a movie? I stopped on the way and rented one."

"Sure," he nodded, taking in how drained she appeared. He almost wanted to ask her why she didn't just go straight home, but he was glad for her company. "What'd you get?"

She snickered as she pulled the DVD case from the plastic bag and held it up. "Horror. It should be a crime to rent anything else this close to Halloween, and the weather's perfect for it."

"Sounds good to me."

As Bella sat down on the couch beside him, Edward noticed the raised flesh on her arms. "You're cold. Grab the blanket off my bed."

"I'm fine," she denied weakly.

"Bella," he chuckled. "You have _goosebumps_. Either you grab it, or I will...and it'll take ten times as long if I do it."

"So pushy," she laughed, bumping into him with her shoulder before she got up and crossed the room. When she settled back into the couch, she curled her legs up underneath her and pulled the blanket up to cover her shoulders. While the preview trailers began to play, she turned her head toward him. "Alec told me you had a rough day. What happened?"

"Nothing really..." he trailed off with a shrug. She got the message loud and clear; he didn't want to talk about it.

With a softly spoken "_okay_", she turned her gaze back toward the television. She wasn't up to fighting him for answers after such a long and stressful day, and she'd learned over the course of time that when he was truly set against talking, she could sooner press water from stone. So when he sighed and paused the DVD, it caught her completely by surprise.

"I just had a bad day," he began as she turned back to look at him. "It's tiring, you know? The constant build up-bottom out I go through every day. I just didn't want to deal with it today, it wasn't that anything bad actually happened...well that's not really fuckin' true."

Bella reached out and took hold of his arm, wrapping her own around it as she brought it underneath the blanket with her. Holding his hand between both of hers, she returned the sad smile he gave her as he squeezed her hand. "You _are_ getting better, Edward. A month ago you couldn't do much more than slightly wiggle your toes. Now you can bend your right leg if someone helps support the weight of it. It may not seem like much, but that's progress."

"Yeah...I guess," he begrudgingly admitted as his head fell back against the couch and he stared at the ceiling.

"Edward, you can talk to me, you know," she said softly, knowing he was withholding what was really bothering him. "Whenever and about whatever. I'll always listen."

Silence pursued and Bella rubbed his arm soothingly while his gaze flittered about the ceiling. When he finally began to talk, she listened to him heave the weight off of his chest that had been holding him down.

"I spent the first seven years of my career busting my ass to work my way up to Lieutenant in the department. I was next in line for Captain," he spoke to the ceiling before turning his gaze to her. She could see the sadness in his eyes as they darted back and forth between her own as he spoke his next words. "It was all for nothing."

Her heart sank as he looked away from her again and continued. "If I ever go back to active duty, I'll be starting all over again. Straight from the fucking bottom. This shit sucks. I damn near killed myself to get where I was, and now it's been flushed down the toilet right along with everything else I've ever busted my ass for. Everything else I've ever wanted.

"When I was a kid, my parents struggled to give us the things we wanted. You'd think for what we do and what we risk, we'd get paid better, but we don't. They were barely able to make ends meet between their salaries. I wanted better for my kids if I ever had any, so I set my goals high early on. And I was getting there, too...but now..._fuck_...it doesn't even matter. I'm not gonna have a pot to piss in soon anyhow. Might as well get used to not having one."

"Tell me what to do, Edward," she frowned. "I don't know what to say or do to make any of this any easier on you."

He smiled half heartedly as he shook his head. As he looked into her warm, worry filled eyes, Alec's words from earlier came back to him and he realized how right he'd been. His decisions may have cost him more than he'd been aware he was willing to risk, but out of it, he'd gained one of the best friends he could have ever asked for in Bella. His fingers laced between hers and he gave a gentle squeeze as he spoke. "You do enough just by being here. It was just a rough day...I'll get over it."

Bella wasn't convinced, not in the least, but as he let go of her hand and withdrew his arm from the blanket before restarting the movie and turning off the lamp, she acknowledged to herself that she could only do so much. The rest was up to him. She could listen, provide encouragement, and be the focus of calm that the rest of his life lacked, but it was up to him to put those offerings to use in ways that helped him.

As the preview trailers came to a close, and the movie began, Edward's despairing words tugged at her heart strings. It was noble of him to want to give his future family more than he'd ever been given, and she couldn't even imagine how it felt to have lost what he'd worked so hard for. It was a tremendous setback in terms of his career, but she was more concerned with how much fight the news would take out of him when he was running on reserves as it already was. In the green glow of the movie's rating screen, she spoke again.

"For what it's worth, my parents didn't have much to spare when I was growing up either. They gave me what they could, when they could, but when they couldn't, I didn't feel any less loved by them. Wanting to provide excess for your family is noble, and it shows how good a person you are. Not being able to doesn't change that though. Material belongings and wealth don't equate happiness, but love can. Just ask my parents. We may not have always had it easy, but, for the most part, we've always been happy."

When the haunting intro music came to a close, Bella instinctively curled further into Edward's side. Still having not said a word in response, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and focused his gaze upon the screen. To Bella, it would seem as though he were truly watching the movie, but his mind and thoughts had traveled far away from where they sat in his den.

He'd never envisioned being able to provide a life of luxury for his future wife and children. He'd known all along that, in his chosen profession, he would never earn a salary that could finance outlandish desires. Edward had never had childish fantasies of taking month long excursions to exotic locations, buying expensive vehicles whenever he wished, or living in mansions that he could get lost in trying to find the game room on his way back from the Olympic sized, heated, indoor swimming pool. Those had been some of his brothers' childhood dreams. Never his own.

What Edward had always wanted was so down to earth and level headed that, when asked to write an essay over the weekend about his wishes for his future, his fifth grade teacher worried he was afraid to dream and hope for more. While other children handed in pages upon pages of their desires, Edward handed in barely a single full page in steady penmanship, unaffected by the excitement for what he was writing as the other children's handwriting had been.

At just ten years of age, Edward didn't waste time trying to think of something creative to say. Instead, he wrote exactly what she'd asked of him. He'd told her that he wanted to be a firefighter, he wanted a family, and a house that wasn't too big or too small. But most of all, he wanted to be able to afford to send his kids to summer camp if they wished to go, so they wouldn't cry themselves to sleep like his brother did on Saturday night. His desires had been simple, and so very telling of the man he'd become.

At twenty-nine, his wishes for his future remained quite the same, and his hard work had finally placed him in a position where he could have afforded to provide a more comfortable lifestyle for his hoped for wife and children. It had taken him ten long years to achieve that goal. How long would it take him to achieve it a second time, and would it even matter if he did by then? Or would history repeat itself, and like his parents, he and his future wife come to be so stretched beyond their means by the time the additional income was granted to them, that it did little good? Would possible future financial struggles strain his hypothetical marriage to the point of near dissolution as it had for his parents many years before?

These were the questions that made the news of losing his position in the department so incredibly disheartening. Every day one more hope, one more lifelong dream, swirled down the drain right before his eyes. What would he lose next? What would he be left with in the end, if anything? Who the hell would want him when he had nothing left to offer?

Not even ten minutes into the movie, Bella's eyelids began to droop. Each blink became more sluggish and drawn out, leaving her eyes closed for long stretches of moments as the minutes continued ticking away further and further into the night. Her body, likewise, began to sag and press further into Edward's side, and it was the feeling of her beginning to slip forward, out of the hook of his arm, that brought him out of his dismally pensive state and back into the present.

As carefully as he could, so as not to wake her, he eased her upper body down into his lap. Her eyes opened for the briefest of moments, awakened by the movement of her head lifting as a throw pillow was placed beneath it, and she questioned if she'd even be able to make it home should she get up. Upon feeling him bring the blanket up around her shoulders once again, she turned and looked up at him with a half lidded, drowsy gaze.

"I should go," she murmured quietly as he brushed her overgrown bangs away from her face.

"You should stay. You're tired," he replied, tracing her perfectly arched eyebrow with his thumb.

"You'll be uncomfortable like this all night." She made a weak attempt to get up, but he stopped her with a gentle hand on the curve of her neck.

"I'll be fine. Go to sleep, Bella."

It was there, in Edward's den, where two friends fell asleep in the flickering light of a movie that neither had watched. And, unbeknownst to each other, with their arms awkwardly curled around one another, it was there that each of them dreamt...of a better tomorrow.

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**A/N****: Okay so this shoulda been out yesterday, but I'm a complete tart and lost track of my days. Not hard to do when your dumb butt has been up for...considering it's almost 1am now and I got up 10am Monday morning...39 hours? Farkle. I'm taking my butt to bed. Hope you all enjoyed the chap! Leave me some love, please? I'll sorely be needing it in the am =( C yas Thursday for another 2fer week!**


	32. Chapter 31

Disclaimer: Twilight character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. All intellectual properties associated with _Through the Flames_ belong to SparklingTwilight. Plagiarism is theft. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization. Thank you.

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A Change in Scenery

Saturday morning, Edward awoke in the most unfamiliar of ways. The sun shining brightly through the window warmed the side of his face, and the enticing fragrance of sizzling bacon—not the burnt to ash remains he had become accustomed to Alec making—lured him from the best night's sleep he could recall having gotten in far too long to remember. As his eyes opened, and he took in his surroundings and position on the couch, confusion gave way to recollection as he remembered falling asleep with Bella the night before.

"Morning sleepyhead," Bella's smiling voice greeted him as she approached him. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I have to piss..." he trailed off, his eyes widening. "I didn't just say that out loud."

"Yeah, you kind of did," she laughed, helping him move his legs so she could push the ottoman out of the way. She held his wheelchair stable for him as he maneuvered himself into it. "Go take care of business, brunch will be done in about ten."

As he wheeled himself toward the bathroom, Bella headed back into the kitchen just in time to sidle up next to Alec and save the bacon from burning to a crisp. When she heard the bathroom door close, she lifted her gaze to the man beside her.

"Think he'll go for it? He seems to be in an okay mood, all things considered."

"Worst that can happen is he'll say no...maybe pitch a fit. Can't hurt to try though," Alec shrugged as he stepped away from the stove and leaned against the counter. "He's _gotta _get out of here for more than just therapy and doctor's appointments. Being holed up like this isn't helping him any."

"I know," she sighed, her shoulders slumping. "I'm just worried that doing this might make things worse."

"Hon', trust me on this one. What we saw yesterday...it can't get much worse than that. But if I know him at all, this will help."

"Where is this place again?" she asked curiously as she flipped the last blueberry pancake in the pan.

"About thirty minutes north of Concrete, literally in the middle of nowhere," Alec chuckled. He sobered as he took in her worried features and rubbed her shoulder. "It'll work, Bella. Any time he's ever needed to get away, that's where he goes."

"We'll see," she shrugged, unable to let go of her concerns.

The cabin they were planning to take him up to for a two day reprieve was a nearly three hour trip, and one they couldn't make without a truck. Alec had informed her earlier that morning that neither her car, or his, would fare well in the muddy, rugged terrain sure to be remaining after the previous day's storm. With a few quick calls to some of the guys in the station, Felix had agreed to swap vehicles with Alec for the weekend so they could manage the trip. The first concern plaguing Bella's mind was how they would get him into, and out of, the truck without making him feel worse for wear for not being able to accomplish it without assistance. But her worries didn't end there.

Once at the cabin, they had steps and uneven ground to contend with as well. She wasn't sure being pushed around would uplift his spirits any. In fact, she was positive it would be entirely counterproductive.

By the time they were seated at the table, Bella's nerves had her stomach churning near painfully. It had been agreed upon that she would broach the subject with him as, according to Alec, Edward seemed to respond better to her than most everyone else—himself included as of late. As she watched him pick at the food before him, with less than half the vigor he usually held while eating food she'd prepared for him, she questioned again if she and Alec were doing the right thing.

"So, Bella...what are you planning to do with your three day weekend?" Alec questioned, his face a mask of innocence. Her eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly as she contemplated flinging a piece of bacon at his face for cornering her.

"You have a three day weekend? How'd you manage that?" Edward asked, showing more interest in that bit of news than he had been in his meal.

"Um, yeah. Jay told me to take Monday off because of how late we worked last night," she answered, busying herself with pushing bits of untouched pancake around her plate. "I was thinking..." she trailed off, resigning herself to take a leap of faith and hope for the best as she put her fork down. "I'd kind of like to get away for a day or two...go somewhere relaxing, maybe?"

"Like where?" he asked, his mood suddenly somber at the thought of spending the weekend at home with just Alec, or Emmett...or whoever else happened to stop by to baby-sit him.

"What about the cabin?" Alec offered, tossing a quick smirk and wink in her direction that went unseen by Edward. "We could all go. It'd be fun and a change of pace. I think we could all use that right about now."

Silence surrounded the table as Edward rested his elbow atop it and buried his hand in his hair, his gaze blurring as he stared at his plate of half eaten food. He was tired of sitting around the house thinking about everything going wrong in his life, tired of hearing whatever whoever was with him was watching on the television, and tired of feeling like his entire life revolved around his recovery. He wanted out; a moment of peace away from everything that was stifling the life right out of him. An escape, even if only temporary.

As he calculated the struggles he'd encounter just to be given that moment of peace he desperately needed, Alec and Bella sat on pins and needles awaiting his response. Any response. When he finally spoke, Bella nearly saw stars as she released the breath she'd been withholding.

"Let's do it."

"Really? You want to go?" Bella asked as a beaming smile broke across her face, all of her previous tension dissipating from her body.

"Yeah...I do," he nodded, a small, answering smile crossing his lips.

Filled with excitement and relief, Bella hurriedly washed their breakfast dishes and tidied up the kitchen while Alec assisted Edward in his morning exercise routine. She couldn't keep the smile off of her face as she scrubbed and rinsed every dish, and wiped down every counter, her heart filled with the hope that this trip would be exactly what Edward needed to revitalize his spirits. When she finished, she sent the dogs out back and headed into the den.

"I'm going to run home and pack," she said, smiling again as she hugged the corner of the wall. "I should be back in under an hour."

Upon walking in her parents' front door, and seeing her father heading down the steps in his black department uniform, she internally groaned, realizing she'd forgotten to call them the night before—or first thing that morning when she'd awoken. She looked at him repentantly as he came to stand before her with a reprimanding brow raised.

To Charlie, she may very well be a grown woman, but she'd always be his little girl. The only one he had, and as long as she was living under his roof, he would worry as though she were still a teenager rather than his twenty-five year old daughter when she didn't call or come home at night.

"In the future, as long as you're living here, I'd appreciate being told when you're spending the night elsewhere. Got it?"

"Yes, Sir," she replied respectfully, and remorsefully. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, kiddo," he chuckled, shaking his head as he bent down to kiss her forehead. "Edward called and told your mother you'd fallen asleep on the couch after she tried you a few times and got no answer. Next time, we'd just rather know before nearly midnight."

"I promise," she nodded, wrapping her arms around him. He smelled of crisp aftershave and cologne scented soap; the combination uniquely Charlie and soothing in its familiarity. When she pulled back, she adjusted his tie and smiled up at him. "Just so you know ahead of time, I won't be home until Monday evening."

"Oh? Where are you going?" He followed behind her as she made her way toward the garage to find a duffle bag or suitcase to pack her clothes in.

"Edward's family has a cabin up north. Alec and I are bringing him up there for a few days of some much needed R&R."

Charlie nodded, gently pushing her aside to reach for his old camping duffle that was just out of her reach. "It's about damn time the kid does something to get his mind off everything. Do you need lanterns or anything? Did he say if the cabin had electricity and all that?"

Bella felt her heart warm at her father's doting concern. In all her years, while some of her friends wished upon every star in the sky that they could be given a different set of parents, she was never anything but thankful for the ones she'd been blessed with. Every day they gave her new reasons to appreciate the family she'd been given, and this day was no different. She just hoped, each day, she gave them the same in return.

As Charlie followed her up the stairs, Bella filled him in on everything she knew about the cabin. Where it was, that it had electricity and running water, but no central heat. There was a wood burning stove in the living room that piped heat throughout the cabin, but at night, it could sometimes get uncomfortably cold. They even shared a laugh at her retelling of her wary concern of having to stumble through the dark of night to reach the outhouse, and Alec and Edward's amusement when they told her if she tried, she'd find herself in a fishing shed. The old outhouse hadn't been as one for quite some time before the property was passed down to Carlisle by his father.

"Where's Mom?" Bella asked, turning away from her closet that held little that would be suitable for the trip. "I might need to borrow a few of her old sweaters. I don't have much more than work clothes."

"Food shopping. Lemme see what I can dig up for you," Charlie replied, standing from where he'd been seated at the foot of her bed.

As she waited for him to return, Bella set about packing her undergarments, the plaid, flannel sleep pants of her father's that she'd borrowed when the change in seasons brought a chilly draft through the window beside her bed, and one of the two pairs of jeans she owned. She figured—as long as she managed to not get too dirty—she could wear a pair for more than just one day. After a moment of contemplation, just to be safe, she folded and packed a pair of sweatpants.

"Here, take these." Charlie's voice had her lifting her gaze and turning toward him as he crossed her room, one of his sweatshirts and a few flannels draped over his arm. "I can't tell what she would, or wouldn't, mind coming back with a few stains. These'll be big, but at least they'll keep you warm."

As she took the shirts from him, she was instantly brought back to her high school days when she'd taken one of his favorite, well-worn flannels out of his closet to use in place of the school issued, standard smock in her art class. It had served its function to keep her clothing free of paint, chalk, and oil pastels, but it also helped bring her away from the classroom and to a mental place of inner peace where her inspiration and creativity blossomed.

The Tacoma P.D. sweatshirt reminded her of times during those same years when her father would replace her pajama shirt with it in her overnight bag for the school's twice yearly campus campout. No matter how many times she'd tried to convince him that boys and girls slept on strictly opposite sides of the school's gymnasium, with all of the chaperones between them no less, he still replaced it when she wasn't paying attention. She knew just as well as he did the message he was sending to all the boys in school, and more importantly, her own boyfriend:

_"Hands off." _

She couldn't resist teasing him. "Trying to send a message are we?"

"Do I need to?" he shot back, only fractionally serious. "I have plenty of time before my shift starts to swing by there and deliver it in person."

"You have nothing to worry about, Dad," she laughed as she scooped up the pile of clothes she'd set aside for the day. "Save the flashing of the badge for another day."

Showered and changed into a pair of jeans, long sleeved t-shirt, and one of her father's roomy, but comfortable, flannels, Bella retrieved her bag from her room and headed down the stairs. After dropping it by the front door, she mentally checked off everything she'd packed, making sure she wasn't forgetting anything she might need. Convinced she'd remembered everything, she headed into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water for the road.

"Got everything?" Charlie asked as he moved about the kitchen, fixing his travel mug of coffee before he headed out. It had never mattered what shift he was working for which three week period, he couldn't function after the sixth hour without the caffeine fix held within his twenty-four ounce mug.

"Yep. Just have to grab my coat."

"Take your mother's black one," he said, placing the jug of milk down on the counter and turning toward her. "It's warmer and she hasn't worn it in years. And call home when you get there."

"I will," she promised as she stepped into his open arms to embrace him goodbye. "Love you."

"Love you too, kiddo. Have fun, and make sure he has a little too."

Stepping out onto the front porch, her bag tossed over her shoulder and her mother's coat draped over her arm, Bella smiled up at the clear blue skies. She hoped the weather would hold out for the entire weekend so they wouldn't be holed up indoors. The breeze was brisk, but the sun shining down from the cloudless sky was enough to warm her.

When she returned to Edward's home, Alec's car was nowhere to be seen, but in its place sat an old, black Ford Bronco. Just looking at it made Bella worry her lip as thoughts of how they were going to get Edward into it reignited the anxiety she'd harbored earlier. She feared he'd have difficulty and his desire to go would evaporate just as quickly as the slight lift in his mood had appeared.

"Are you guys ready?" she called out as she entered the house.

"Just about," Alec responded as he came striding down the hallway with two red duffle bags, yellow maltese crosses on either side of them. "Once Edward's done getting dressed we can hit the road."

She followed him outside to where he dropped the bags beside the truck parked along the curb. "Alec...how are we getting him in there?"

"Easy, we're not," he smirked. "He's gonna do it on his own. Just watch."

And watch she did as Alec wedged the wheelchair as far between the open door and passenger seat as he could, and all on his own, Edward managed to use no more than his upper body strength to situate himself into the front seat. When Alec shut the door behind him and turned to fold Edward's wheelchair, he smirked at her once more.

"See? That was the easy part...getting back out will be a little harder, but not impossible."

With all of their bags stowed away in the backseat beside Bella, and the dogs loaded into the very back of the truck, their journey began. Along the way, Bella was entertained with countless stories of memories of their youths—summer weeks spent swimming, fishing, and exploring the vast forest surrounding the cabin. She'd known Alec and Edward had been friends nearly all their lives, but in hearing their numerous tales, she began to understand that their bond ran much deeper than mere friendship. They were family; brothers, separated by bloodlines but reconnected by the unbreakable bond forged between the kindred souls of two children.

When Edward wasn't weighted down by the hardships in his life, Bella doubted there ever existed two men more alike one another. They even shared the same laugh; full and hearty, straight from the belly and crinkling their eyes in the same spots. It was adorable, and heartwarming to know that, if nothing else, Edward had in Alec what few people ever find in life.

A soul mate.

In the late afternoon sun, as Alec pulled the truck into a clearing and Bella spotted the cozy little cabin, she almost felt as though the sight of it was a familiar one. From their stories, she could picture a younger Alec and Edward leaping over the deck rail and running for the water as Esme hollered at them to use the stairs before one of them broke a leg. Looking at the dock that extended at least twenty feet out into the lake, she could almost hear eight year old Emmett yelling "_canon ball!_" as he hurled himself off the edge of it, his target his fifteen year old big brother floating, unsuspecting, on an inflatable inner tube.

She could almost see the blinding, ear to ear, smiles on all of their faces before years of adulthood and responsibility began to tear them apart.

"Are you coming?"

"Huh?...yeah." She hadn't even been aware that Edward was already settled in his wheelchair, so lost she'd been in her imaginings of years long ago when she'd known nothing of their family aside from the reputation of their surname's life calling.

Serenity surrounded them as they watched the sun set fire to the autumn tinted foliage sprawling as far as their eyes could see, and reflected off the still waters of the lake just a short distance before them. Edward breathed in the crisp, clean air deeply, allowing the peace the isolated cabin's location provided him to seep into him and alleviate some of the tension he'd been harboring within for months. This retreat had been exactly what he'd needed to decompress, and glancing at the people standing beside him, his friends and very foundation of his support system, he realized they'd needed it just as much.

"I wish I'd thought to bring a camera. This is gorgeous," Bella murmured, not wanting to speak loud enough to disrupt the tranquil atmosphere.

"At least now you know not to forget it next time," Edward chuckled quietly, smiling at her look of surprise.

She hadn't known if this trip would be a one time experience for her, or if she'd ever be invited to come along in the future. With just that one lightly teasing comment, she had her answer. A camera could wait, this wouldn't be the last she'd see of the beauty before her.

Long after the darkness of night fell upon them, and the chill in the air forced them indoors, Bella set about making their beds for the night—their sleeping arrangement having been decided upon during the drive up. Little did she know at the time that just an hour after they'd settled into their designated sites of slumber, Alec's snoring in the recliner beside her would have her tossing and turning until she was near tears from her inability to fall asleep. Exhausted and exasperated with trying, and failing, to drown out the obnoxious noise with her pillow, she finally could stand no more. Pulling herself up off the couch and padding as silently as she could across the cold hardwood floor, her blanket and pillow in tow, she headed for the only other available sleeping space that posed no threat of hypothermia.

The bedroom door stuttered out a whining creak as she pushed it open, and in the moonlight, she could see Edward, nearly silent and fast asleep. She wrapped her blanket around her and pushed the door closed just enough to drown out the sound of Alec's snores without latching it shut. It was the second creaking of the door that brought Edward out of his slumber, his eyes opening and focusing on the bleary sight of Bella swathed in a blanket, standing just feet from the bed. For a moment he thought he might have been dreaming, disbelieving that she'd really come to join him in his bed, but she nearly jumped a foot in the air when his groggy voice called out her name.

"Sorry," she whispered, her heart hammering away in her chest. "I didn't mean to wake you, I just couldn't sleep out there."

Without her even needing to ask, he pulled the blanket back on the opposite side of the bed in invitation. "He snoring?"

"Like a tractor," she muttered, shivering slightly as she tossed her blanket across the bed. He watched her silently, an almost foreign, warm sensation spreading through his chest as she slipped in beside him. His eyes caught hers, dark pools of ink in the faint moonlight, as she turned toward him and folded her pillow beneath her head. "How do you guys get any sleep in the station with _that_?"

"You get used to it," he chuckled, his voice deep and hoarse. For a moment he'd felt awkward, caught off guard by what he was feeling, but as she settled in, it faded away, leaving behind only the familiar comfort of her company.

"Where did you all sleep when you were younger? This place is so small. It's cozy, but I can't imagine all of you fitting in here."

He wanted to turn toward her, but after laying on his back for so long, his spot was finally toasty warm and comfortable—the chill of the bed no longer causing the joints in his legs to ache and throb painfully. The wood burning stove did a good job of heating the open area of the living room and kitchen, and an adequate job of heating the bathroom, but the bedroom was the furthest from the source of heat, and was subsequently always the coldest room in the cabin. In the winter, it was uninhabitable without a space heater or two running around the clock.

"If it was raining, we'd all sleep on air mattresses on the porch floor, but when it was nice out, we'd take 'em outside. If it was really hot and humid, we'd drag 'em down onto the dock for the open breeze," he answered, staring at the ceiling as he thought back to the golden days of his youth.

His sudden, breathy laugh after long moments of silence had her drooping eyelids flashing back open as he spoke. She'd been just moments from falling fast asleep.

"One summer, I think he was about nine or ten at the time, Jasper got this brilliant idea to put his air mattress in the water and sleep on it while it was floating. To this day I have no idea what he was thinking when he knew our mother would frequently wake up during the night and step out onto the deck to check on us. I think she woke the whole forest when she saw him floating at least twenty feet away from the dock."

He turned his head to look at her with an amused smile on his face. "He had to share a mattress with Emmett every time we came up here for the rest of that summer, and the next year, he wasn't allowed to sleep anywhere but on the porch or in the living room."

"Why did Emmett sleep in here with your parents back then?" she mumbled, barely able to open her eyes.

"Em was too young to be trusted to sleep outside with us. He was only four or five and had a penchant for wandering off when no one was looking," he answered, turning his head to look back at the ceiling.

As he stared off into the darkness, thinking about a time in his life when everything was as uncomplicated as it could possible be, Bella's breaths began to slow into a shallow, even rhythm beside him. At the sound of the softest snore he'd ever heard, his head turned once again in her direction. He wished he could fall asleep with such ease, but slumber had been increasingly difficult for him to find. Every night, as he laid in bed, it was a struggle to tame his chaotic mind. He would toss and turn, each of his effort filled movements adding to the despairing thoughts keeping him awake, as the alarm clock beside his bed steadily marked the passage of time through the dark hours of night.

If only there were a clock that brought him through the darkness of his life as accurately as the one beside his bed brought him through the night and into the light of a new dawning day.

Early Sunday morning, Bella awoke alone in the bed. Fast asleep, she hadn't heard or felt Edward leave the bed, and for a moment, it had left her feeling disoriented and confused by her surroundings. With the blanket pulled tightly around her, she slipped from the bed in search of him.

In the living room, she could hear the crackling of the wood burning in the cast iron stove, and smell the smoking pine in the air, but she carefully pulled the piping hot door open to check the fire anyhow. It appeared as though someone had added more wood not too long before she'd awoken. Stepping out onto the front porch, she pulled the blanket in tighter around her against the frosty morning air. Down, at the end of the dock, casting their lines out into the glassy lake surface as wisps of fog swirled in the breeze above the water, she found the men she'd been looking for, fishing.

With a soft smile on her face, she headed back into the cabin. After washing the sole pot left behind from their breakfast of oatmeal, she poured herself the remainder of the coffee they'd brewed from the carafe. The steaming liquid, diluted with milk and sugar hadn't even made it a full sip past her lips before it was emptied back into the cup.

"How do they _drink _that?" she grimaced, eyeing the cup's contents warily as she dumped it down the drain. It was bitter and so strong no amount of cream or sugar could ever hope to tame it.

While the kettle boiled water for her cup of tea, she searched the cabin for something to keep herself occupied for a while. Settling on a dusty copy of '_The Grapes of Wrath_' she found in the side pocket of the recliner, she headed out onto the deck. With her blanket wrapped snuggly around her, and her cup of tea set upon a resin table beside her, she delved into a story about a family during the depression.

Down on the dock, Alec's weathered folding chair creaked as he bent forward for the can of corn they were using as bait. When they'd stopped for supplies on the way up to the cabin, neither he, nor Edward, had thought to buy bait. It was just as well, as they wouldn't be keeping anything they managed to catch. Catfish or fresh water bass had never appealed much to either of their palates, though they did both enjoy the sport of fishing for them.

Casting his line out into the water, only to slowly start reeling it back in, Edward thought about the previous night and what had begun to stir within him. From the very beginning he'd been attracted to Bella, but it had never transcended just that; physical attraction. The more he thought about it—thought about _her_—he began to realize that maybe it had and he'd just been oblivious, or unwilling to acknowledge that how he felt about her ran much deeper than mere physical attraction. He'd fallen asleep knowing there was a very distinct possibility that he could start feeling for her more than a friend should. But when he awoke just a few hours later to her curled up against him, her body having unconsciously sought out the heat of his own as the fire in the cast iron stove dwindled, he became instantly aware that he already did.

Somewhere along the line he'd stopped seeing her as just a friend and began seeing her as something..._more_. Whether this change had been recent, or had been in effect for some time outside of his awareness, he wasn't sure—but it was there, and he didn't know how to feel about it. Regardless of how much time they spent together, they'd only just met a few short months ago and were still getting to know one another. In the past, that might not have bothered him, but he wasn't the same man anymore, and some days, more frequently as of late, he doubted he ever would be again.

"You know...this isn't that far of a trip," Alec spoke quietly, focusing his gaze on threading kernels of corn onto his hook. "We can always come up here again whenever things get to be too much."

Edward shrugged as he reeled his line in, his mind elsewhere. "Maybe..."

"You can't keep going like this, man," Alec sighed, shaking his head. "Your situation sucks. I get it. Everyone gets it, but holding yourself back from living life doesn't make it any easier to deal with, Edward. You need to get out, _do _stuff..."

"Like what?" he barked, snapping his head to the side. He had enough on his mind without having to dwell on the sad state of his social life. The very same social life that had been virtually nonexistent even beforehis world had been flipped on its axis. "Go to the bar and drown my sorrows in liquor? Hang out with guys from the station who all feel sorry for me? What exactly is it you all want me to do?"

"Jesus...quit acting like it's a goddamn crime that we all want you to stop moping around all the damn time," Alec huffed angrily. He ran an agitated hand through his hair as he stared out over the water. Dropping his hand and shaking his head once more, he turned his gaze to Edward. "Just _get out_, bro. Do whatever the hell you used to do when you had some free time on your hands."

Edward barked out an angry laugh and Alec could see the muscles on the side of his jaw tense as he gritted his teeth. "You don't get it, do you? _Nobody _fucking _gets it_. I never _had _spare time. Every moment of every damn day I had some obligation to tend to, and now I've got...nothing. I have no goddamn purpose in life anymore."

"If that's not the biggest heap of horseshit I've ever heard in my entire life," Alec scoffed. "There's only purpose to life, and it's to _live it_, dipshit, so blow the dust off your ass and start doing it. Maybe then you'll find whatever _purpose _it is you're looking for."

Tense silence settled between them, the only sounds filtering into their angry minds coming from the nature surrounding them, and the whirring and clicking of their reels. As the morning hours pressed forward, and the fog hovering over the lake's surface evaporated, their moods slowly lifted as well. His fishing line long forgotten as it bobbed in the water, Edward's mind drifted back to the past, visions of their younger selves playing in the woods surrounding them without a care in the world.

"Do you remember that tree platform we found out here when we were about eight?"

"Yeah," Alec chuckled as he cast his line back in the water, remembering fondly those summers from ages ago. "You used to make Jasper sit on it while we pretended it was a house on fire. Poor kid would get hosed by our water guns until you'd turn to me and yell, _'I'm goin' in!'_, and haul him down on your back."

Edward nodded and looked down at his rusty old fishing reel. At one time, he may have laughed over the memory he once considered to be a happy one, but the recollection of it now pained him to the core. Of all his thoughts that spun dizzily through his head on a daily basis, one remained unmoving and ever present. For every brief glimpse of light he experienced in life, the significance of that memory laid in wait, ready to drag him back into the darkness that was consuming him.

"I live for the job, Alec. Even back then...I don't know who I am without it."

"Then it's about high time you figured that out, don't ya think?" Alec asked, standing and picking up their empty thermoses. As he turned to head back up to the cabin to make a fresh pot, he gripped Edward's shoulder. "I'll give you a little head start. Before you were ever a firefighter, you were a son, a brother, and a friend. Life doesn't have to be about titles, but if you need one, start there."

"Cash, stay here, buddy," Alec commanded when the dog made to follow him up to the cabin. However unlikely it was that Edward would find himself in trouble, he'd be able to hear Cash barking should something happen.

Halfway up the path, Alec glanced up to the deck and found Bella nose-deep in a novel, using Tango, curled up at the foot of her lounge chair, as a footrest. It was a comical sight if he'd ever seen one, as it appeared Edward's dog was just as betaken by her as Edward himself was, whether he realized it or not.

"At least the dog knows a good thing when he sees it," he muttered under his breath.

As he reached the top of the stairs, Bella's gaze shot up from the pages and a smile crossed her face. "How's it going? Catching anything good?"

"Aside from a mean case of identity crisis...not much else is biting down there," he sighed, collapsing into the chair beside her.

"Identity crisis?" she asked, not understanding.

"Yeah...without the job, he doesn't know who he is," Alec responded. When she dropped her book to the ground and began scooting her way out of the chair, his brow furrowed at her. "Where you going?"

"To talk to him," she replied, adjusting her twisted undershirt.

Forgoing shoes, she headed down the path toward the lake, careful not to step on any jagged rocks. At the end of the wooden dock, she lowered herself down near the edge of it, her side facing the water so she could look at him.

"Did I ever tell you my dad was shot?" she asked quietly after a few moments. He shook his head, and she nodded as she looked down at her lap and picked at a loose thread on her flannel pants. "He was, twice, when I was nine. Once in the chest and once in the hip. We almost lost him."

"What happened?" Edward asked, abandoning his pole to the ground.

"He pulled someone over for speeding. When he was at the guy's window, an APB went out over the radio, describing a man and car involved in a robbery just a few miles down the road. The guy opened fire before he could react, and because of the way he was turned, the first bullet went right through the side of his vest and almost hit his heart." When she looked back up at him, she had unshed tears shimmering in her eyes.

"My dad's a cop, Edward. In everything he does, he's always a cop first, and that incident almost took both his life and his career." She stood and pulled her phone from her pocket. Placing it on the arm of his wheelchair, she cupped his cheek with her hand and kissed his temple.

"He knows where you are right now. Talk to him."

* * *

**A/N****: Man these 2fer weeks really wipe me out! On a bittersweet note, the last chapter of Through the Flames has officially been written. So what does this mean? WEEKLY UPDATES from here on out! YAY! LOL. There are 8 more chapters to follow this one, and the final 2 before the epilogue will post the same week (probably a Tues/Thurs posting). **

**So a lot of questions were brought up in reviews about Edward's position being filled, and I thought it'd be best to explain it all here. FMLA guidelines for when a person takes a leave of absence from their job because of an injury or temporary disability that disenables them from doing their job, require the employer to hold A position for that employee until they either return, or until it is deemed the person will indefinitely be unable to return. There is a 12 week period in which an employer cannot fill the exact position the injured/sick employee held, but after the end of that 12 week period, they are only required to keep an available position open available for said employee somewhere within thier staffing. **

**Simply put, as long as Edward has a job to go back to, when/if he's able to, the department is breaking no rules in filling his Lieutenant spot. Businesses must be run, etc, and no one at this point has been given any indication as to whether or not Edward will ever even be able to return to the job. They can't hold his position for him indefinitely. **

**That all being said, I ask that you all please trust me, as I've asked from the beginning LOL. I've had a plan all along for this story, and these characters, and things within this story aren't always exactly what they seem to be. Just keep reading lovies =)**

**I hope you all have a very safe, and happy New Year! C yas in 2011!**


	33. Chapter 32

Disclaimer: Twilight character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. All intellectual properties associated with _Through the Flames_ belong to SparklingTwilight. Plagiarism is theft. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization. Thank you.

* * *

A Change in Attitude

The ear splitting sound of guns being fired echoed in the vast enclosed space long after the bullets had been discharged. Even with the protective earmuffs in place, Edward winced at every gunshot. The last ten alone had been made by Charlie, himself.

Sunday night, instead of spending another night in the cabin, Alec, Bella, and Edward headed back to Tacoma at Charlie's request. They hadn't had much of a conversation on the phone, after the half hour it took Edward to bring himself to find the number in Bella's contact list. In total, their call had lasted all of five minutes, during which Edward self-consciously explained his reason for calling after Charlie had mistaken him for his daughter, and Charlie replied with a question that did nothing more than confuse him.

_'How do you feel about shooting?'_

When he'd responded that he'd never shot anything, aside from a bow and arrow in high school gym class and the occasional slingshot as a youth, Charlie just laughed and said: "_See you bright and early tomorrow morning, kid._"

He hadn't know what to make of it, at all, and he'd said as much to Bella; who, like her father, laughed. At least when she stopped laughing, she didn't leave him hanging in confusion.

"_He's bringing you to the shooting range. Guy time._" She'd explained, amused by her father's antics.

Six am, bright and early, just as he'd said, Charlie was standing at Edward's front door. Bella—having made an educated guess as to what time her father would arrive based on what time the local range opened for officers—made sure Edward was up and ready to go with ten minutes to spare by the time the doorbell chimed.

Edward still wasn't sure what the purpose of bringing him to a shooting range was, but he wasn't questioning it either. He wasn't sure he'd be able to hear the answer, deaf as he was quickly becoming.

As Charlie fired off another round of shots, Edward looked around and noticed that the other three men that had been down the opposite end of the lane, had left. It was just the two of them remaining. When the echo faded, Charlie removed his earmuffs and turned toward him.

"Looks like it's just you and me, kid," Charlie shouted while motioning for him to take his earmuffs off.

"What?"

Charlie couldn't do anything but laugh as Edward wiggled his fingers in his ears, trying to restore his hearing. "Takes a little getting used to, don't it?"

"How are you not deaf?" Edward questioned, still hearing ringing in his ears.

"Same way you're not from sirens. Your ears get used to the noise," Charlie chuckled. "C'mon, let's take this outside. I can't teach you to shoot if you can't hear me."

Edward followed behind him down the long corridor, and through the doors leading to the outdoor firing range. He wasn't sure he even wanted to learn, having never had the desire to before, but he kept his mouth shut and followed Charlie's lead. Outside, there were two more men standing in the first and third lanes, one with a scoped rifle aiming at a target about two hundred feet out, and the other with a shotgun, his target significantly closer. The shots were still incredibly loud, but not as overwhelming as they had been indoors.

At the end of the lane, as far away from any employees or off-duty officers as they could get, Charlie turned and leaned against the railing. Edward looked at him skeptically as he held his firearm out, but took it when Charlie quirked a brow at him.

"Have at it, kid."

Warily placing it in his lap, Edward wheeled himself into the lane's standing area and locked his chair. With shaky hands, he lifted the shiny, black pistol and took aim. Sucking in a deep breath, he pulled the trigger—and nothing happened.

"First rule of firearms, Edward. Always engage the safety when you're finger's not on the trigger, ready to shoot. Without aiming it anywhere but down the firing lane, slide the lever on the left to disengage the safety."

"You could have said something before I pulled the trigger," Edward chuckled, slightly amused.

"Accidents happen, kid. Let's try not to have one today, eh?" Charlie shrugged.

Standing directly behind Edward, he watched as he took aim and tried not to laugh, already knowing he would miss his target. With another steadying breath, Edward pulled the trigger and cursed, not expecting the kick back.

"Did I even hit it?"

"Way off, son. What exactly were you aiming for? The tree ten yards to the left?" Charlie teased. This was his favorite part of teaching a newbie to shoot.

Another three missed shots had Edward bristling and Charlie winded from laughing. "C'mon, my daughter had better aim in _high school_, Edward," he razzed, highly amused. "_Focus_, kid. Imagine the trajectory line of the bullet coming outta that gun."

"_I am_," Edward huffed, taking sight once more. Another shot, another miss. "What the hell is the point of all this?" he shouted, dropping his hands, with the gun still cradled in his right.

"What'd I tell you about the safety?" Charlie reprimanded sternly, taking the gun from him as he stepped to Edward's side and crouched down. Once the safety had been reengaged, he turned his gaze upward. "The point is, when you're so damn busy being pissed off about things you _can't _do, you miss out on the things you _can_. _That's_ the point of this, kid.

"It might have been different for me because I had a wife and daughter at home waiting for me, but it didn't stop me from being pissed off. Some days it was at the perp that shot me, others it was at myself for leaving myself vulnerable in that moment. My hand should have never left my sidearm, and I should have never turned my attention away from the car, but I did. Those were mistakes _I _made that could have changed everything."

Charlie's eyes had never been more expressive than they were as he spoke in that moment. Just looking into them, Edward could see how hard his struggles had been, how much pain it had caused him.

"Worse than being angry at him, or myself, was when I'd lash out at Renee or Bella." As he said this, his eyes glimmered slightly with anguished tears. "She was _nine_, Edward. She didn't understand that my anger wasn't because of anything _she _did wrong. Renee knew better, but knowing didn't stop it from hurting her any less. Anger's never made a man stronger, or made it easier to manage a situation. It just gets in the damn way and ruins what little good exists. Do you understand?"

Edward nodded as Charlie put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You've got a good family, kid. You've got good friends. And you've got one of the _best _things in my life that pushed me to let go of what I kept letting poison me from the inside out—my daughter. I can't tell you how to find yourself, but I cantell you the quickest way to _lose _yourself. All this anger you feel, let it out in the rehab building and leave it there, the way I left mine here."

The silence growing between them was oppressive; awkward. He could see the truth in Charlie's words, but agreeing with them, and acting on them, were two entirely different things. Charlie was a strong man, and he'd undoubtedly passed that inner strength on to his daughter.

"You know..."Edward trailed off, clearing his throat. "Bella's pretty lucky to have you as an old man. It's easy to see now where she gets her strength from."

"Nah, that's all her own—and she didn't get much wisdom from me either," Charlie chuckled, grateful for the lighter conversation. "Trust me when I say that parenting isn't so much a teaching experience as it is a learning one. You're bound to do more things wrong than you ever do right, but you'll figure that out on your own one day."

"So..." Charlie quirked an eyebrow in Edward's direction. "You ready to learn how to shoot the right way, and maybe figure out what you're really capable of?"

Three hours, four magazines, and six shredded paper targets later, Edward returned home with what Charlie had deemed '_commendable marksmanship_.' After Charlie had pointed out that he was lifting the barrel whenever he pulled the trigger, he only missed the paper once—because Charlie startled him out of his focus by shouting "_bang!_" His bullet missed the target by a mile, sinking into the dirt retaining wall beyond the line of targets, but they'd shared a good laugh out of it, and he learned something about Bella as well.

According to Charlie, it had been _years _since he'd been able fumble her shot. Her focus on the range was, in her father's words, unshakable, and he was tremendously proud of that fact.

"How'd it go?" Bella asked, smiling when she saw the ear to ear grin on his face, Charlie's matching one trailing just feet behind him.

"Good," Edward chuckled, nodding. "Why didn't you ever tell me you're a _master marksman_?"

She narrowed her eyes at her father, laughing under her breath. "Don't believe everything he tells you, or he's liable to have you believing I was an accomplished ballerina at age four as well."

"Were you?"

"Sure," she snickered, the idea of it entirely preposterous. "If you call wearing a tutu and tights while spinning around the living room until I was dizzy ballet dancing. Now go eat, we have to leave in a half hour."

Bella waited until Edward disappeared down the hall before stepping outside with her father. Closing the door behind her, she turned to him with anxious eyes.

"How'd it really go? Did it help?"

"I don't know, honey. It might have, it might not have. You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink, ya know?" Charlie responded, rubbing the back of his neck. "Even if he takes my advice, don't expect it to be an overnight change, Bella. It wasn't one for me, remember that, and I was dealing with half the crap he's facing. I was out of work for ten months, he'll be damn lucky to ever make it back at all."

"I know, I know," she sighed, circling her fingertips against her temples. As she dropped her hands to her sides, she released a deep breath. "It just...it kills me seeing him like this."

"Give it time, kiddo. Just give it a little time. Whether it's the hard way, or the easy way, at some point, he'll figure himself out."

"I hope so," she whispered as he wrapped his arms around her.

For the first time since the very first few weeks he'd begun his intense rehabilitation routine, Edward felt motivated as he wheeled himself into the building. Despite the restless sleep he'd gotten the prior two nights in a row, and being woken up by Bella before the sun had even risen, he felt completely energized. The last time he'd felt as such, he'd been walking into the station house, a half an hour early for the start of his twenty-four hour tour. It only took Seth a momentary glance to see a different man heading toward him than the one who'd wheeled away from him just three days before.

"Well, now. I remember asking for A game, but from the looks of it, someone's ready to go for the championship," Seth praised, clapping him on the arm.

"Something like that..." Edward trailed off, distracted by the group of people gathered at the back of the room. "Why are they all wearing bathing suits?"

"Aquatic exercise class," Seth answered, and chuckled as Edward gave him a bewildered look. "The buoyancy of the water counteracts gravity, so people with weakened extremities can work on their motor control without the weight of their limbs limiting them. It helps build strength, too, because the water provides a bit of resistance."

"Does it work? I mean...does it help them recover faster?" Bella asked curiously.

"In some cases," Seth nodded. "In any case it doesn't slow recovery down any."

"Why haven't I been doing it then?"

Seth's face crinkled a bit as he crouched down in front of him, his eyes apologetic as they met Edward's. "Because Workman's Comp won't cover it. They consider it alternative therapy, and they limit me to what I can, and can't, do based on what they'll pay the facility for."

As Edward shook his head, his teeth clenching together as he thought about how screwed up the system was, Alec and Bella's shared glance went by unnoticed. In the two months he'd been out of the hospital, Workman's Comp had ruled nearly every decision regarding Edward's care. They'd taken away the homecare, which had been the least of the troubles as Edward had enough support around him that he didn't require it, but they'd chosen different doctors for him to see, and dictated how often he could see them.

His orthopedic-spine doctor was no longer Dr. Ashford, it was Dr. Canton, whom Edward was none too fond of, and his new pain management physician was nothing more than a family practitioner. Trying to get her to understand he couldn't tolerate narcotic pain relievers had been such a nightmare that he'd given up, and resorted to popping over the counter medicines like candy on the days he couldn't stand the pain in his lower back and hips.

If aquatic therapy was something Edward wanted to try, both Alec and Bella felt he should be able to, whether Workman's Comp paid for it, or not.

"How much would something like that cost out of pocket?" Alec asked.

"About a hundred and twenty, give or take, per one hour session. Our programs are either three or four sessions a week. It's expensive, I know, but if you want, we can try to get around Workman's Comp...contact your main insurance carrier to see if they'll cover it. Some will, some won't, but it can't hurt to try," Seth offered. "If they okay it, we'll fill out the forms and get you started in it as soon as possible."

"If it'll help, I want to do it," Edward nodded. "I just won't be able to pay the entire cost on my own."

"Let me see what I can do," Seth said as he stood. "I'll send Jimmy out to get you started on stretching, and give me about a half hour or so to get an answer from your provider."

After Jimmy came and escorted Edward to a matted table, Bella followed Alec to a row of chairs across the facility floor. When he flipped open his phone and quickly dialed a number, she wanted to ask who he was calling, but after just a minute of him speaking, she wanted to kiss him.

"Hey, Ty, get everyone together and put me on speaker phone. I need to talk to you all at the same time."

"Alright, man. You're on. What's this about? We're all crammed in here and it smells like shit 'cause Eric torched a bag of popcorn."

Alec sighed, his eyes focused across the room at his friend. "It's about Edward."

As Alec explained the situation and his reason for calling, Bella waited anxiously for their response. Worries over how Edward could come up with the money to cover the additional therapy tugged and pulled at her conscience as an aggravated noise escaped Alec's throat, followed by desperate words.

"Guys, this is _Edward_ we're talking about. How many times has he covered for one of us? How many times has he stuck his neck out on the line for any single one of us? He's never asked for a damn thing from anyone. We owe this to him."

Not a full minute passed before Tyler spoke again. Alec's words of reason, though he hadn't wanted to need to use them, had hit each and every one of the men in the station right where it counted; in the heart, and hard. "We're in, just let us know when and how much."

"I should know before we leave here today. And do me a favor, get on the horn and hit up everyone else in the station."

"Sure thing. Tell Edward we're behind him all the way."

"Will do, thanks guys."

After ending his call, Alec winked at Bella. "It's taken care of. C'mon. Let's go await the verdict with him."

The twenty minutes they'd waited until Seth emerged from the office, almost seemed like an eternity. Upon spotting him, Edward sat straight up, bracing himself against one arm.

"What'd they say?"

"Good news, but maybe not good enough," Seth answered, shifting his hands up and down in front of him, as though he were weighting something. "Since we're a private facility not technically associated with the hospital, your provider considers us to be out of network, butthey _will_ cover half the cost. You're pre-approved for either program on a four week interval basis...meaning you get re-approved every four weeks at their discretion."

"That's still more than I can pay out of pocket. I can't wing two hundred a week..."

"Sign him up..."

"Alec, I _can't _afford it," Edward argued and Alec smirked.

"You're not gonna be paying for it so settle down." At his incredulous look, Alec laughed. "Come on, man. They don't call us a _brotherhood_ for nothing. Consider it a gift from Tacoma's bravest."

"What?...How did they...?"

Alec shrugged as Edward's eyes darted between him and Bella. "I made a quick call...speaking of," he grinned as his phone started ringing in his pocket. He quickly withdrew it and flipped it open, hitting the speaker phone button so Edward could hear what they said.

"Ty?"

"Yeah, man, it's a go. Everyone's in. We couldn't get a hold of Felix, but I'm sure he'll be in, and Em and the Chief said to put them down for double. Some of the medic crew are in, too...so it looks like...twenty-six of us altogether?"

"Twenty eight, add two for me and my parents," Bella added as she encircled his arm in hers.

"I can't believe you guys...this is..._shit_." As hard as he tried to fight them back, tears brimmed in Edward's eyes and blurred his vision. His hand quickly came up to cover his eyes as the first tear spilled over, his fingers pinching and pushing against his lids to keep any more from falling as he listened to the voices of the guys at the station all ramble through the line at once.

Bella wrapped her arms tightly around him as his chest shook with suppressed sobs. His hand fisted the back of her shirt tightly as he hid his face in the crook of her neck. It was too much, hearing all his friends, brothers, practically shouting their words of support and encouragement through the phone.

"Yo, Alec...is he alright over there? Tough guy sounds like he's gettin' all weepy on us."

Thinking quick to save his friend from jabs the guys would hang onto for years to come, he laughed, forced as it was. "Nah, he's chokin' on spit. Squeezing a penny out of everyone is newsworthy, everyone shitting out dimes in his name is legendary. Hell, he's turnin' blue, I gotta go."

"Shhh, it's okay," Bella whispered, trying not to laugh when she lifted her head to look at Alec. "What was _that_?"

He held up his hands with a defensive, yet amused, face. "I was trying to save the guy some face. What was I supposed to say?"

Edward groaned out a sigh, pinching the moisture away from his eyes once more, before pulling away from Bella. His glassy gaze, full of gratitude, locked on Alec and with a brief nod, he turned to Seth.

"When can we start?"

With a grin, thrilled by the rejuvenation of Edward's will to fight, Seth responded.

"How's the beginning of next week sound?"

* * *

**A/N****: Happy New Year! For any of those interested, I'll be joining the "Share Your Inspiration" Anonymous One-shot Contest. Obvs' I can't say which one I wrote, or if mine has even posted yet, LOL, but please, please, please, head on over and check out some of the stories here:**

**www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/u/2580394/Share_Your_Inspiration**

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**Only 7 more chapters to go! See you all next week! **


	34. Chapter 33

Disclaimer: Twilight character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. All intellectual properties associated with _Through the Flames_ belong to SparklingTwilight. Plagiarism is theft. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization. Thank you.

* * *

Progress

The last week of October was filled with many things for the people of Tacoma; last minute searches for perfect costumes, purchases by the cartfuls of candy to pass out to trick-or-treaters, the carving of pumpkins to sit upon porch steps—flickering with the light of the tea light candles nestled within. But while most of the city was rushing toward Halloween with excited smiles upon their faces, Edward, unknowingly, was creeping toward something altogether different.

October 30th, two pumpkins sat upon the kitchen counter in Edward's home, still awaiting to be carved as he sat, miles away, working with his physical therapist to overcome what he wouldn't allow himself to believe was permanent. Costumes and trick-or-treaters, decorations and ghoulish gatherings, and the pumpkins and candy Bella had brought over were the farthest things from his mind as he listened to Seth's every word of encouragement and praise.

"You got this, Edward," Seth chanted.

Edward's eyes were screwed tightly shut, his hands gripping the sides of the matted table, his entire body trembling from the effort he was expending to bend and raise his right knee all on his own. A bead of sweat slipped from his brow as a heavy breath wheezed and hissed through his teeth, and for a moment, he considered giving up, but he couldn't.

Not now. Not ever.

"You can do this. I know you can. Focus on the connection," Seth encouraged. Edward could hear the grin in his voice, though he couldn't see it, but the sound of it urged him on. He was getting there, he knew he was. Just a little more.

With a steeling breath, he focused on the muscles he was trying to control, picturing with his mind what he was commanding them to do.

Bend, raise..._move_.

He felt his heel slide, his sock slick and the movement uninhibited as it would have been by the rubbery tread of his sneakers. He felt the shake of his leg muscles as it slowly raised off the mat, and he gripped the sides of the table harder to hold himself steady.

"Lift, Edward...Keep going," Seth chanted. "You're doin' it, man! C'mon, all the way!"

His teeth grit together as he felt his heel slide in miniscule increments, each slight movement painfully slow in coming and fought for with every fiber in his being. Ten long weeks of intense physical therapy had brought him to this defining moment. This moment where he was finally _succeeding_, rather than trying and failing.

"You got it, man! Just a little more!" Seth crowed joyously, garnering the curious glances of others within the room.

Edward's breaths rushed in and out of his lungs as he felt the underside of his foot flatten against the pad. His eyes opened, prickling as moisture rushed into them at the blurry sight of his knee fully bent before him.

"_Yeah_!" he shouted, one arm soaring into the air in victory.

"You did it, Edward," Seth laughed, clapping. "That was _all you_, my man."

For the briefest of fleeting moments, Edward laughed and wished that Emmett had been there with him, that he hadn't needed to run errands after dropping him off, but the moment disappeared as he became overwhelmed with emotion. His arms crossed over his face, shielding him from the views of bystanders as he fought to keep his composure. His torso jerked with every sob he tried to hold within.

Seth's hands braced his ankle and the underside of his knee, preparing to help him lower his leg back down to the pad, but Edward's muffled voice stopped him.

"Don't...leave it. Please."

Ten long weeks it had taken him to get here, to finally feel like he wasn't fighting for the impossible; to finally feel like there truly was something to hope for. He wasn't ready to give that feeling up just yet by having someone lower his leg back down for him. When he was ready, he'd put the effort forth to do it on his own.

"Pretty moving stuff, huh?" Seth asked, lowering himself to sit on the edge of the padded table. "The first big breakthrough."

With a calming breath, Edward wiped the evidence of his tears on his sleeves and lowered his arms. Staring at the fluorescent light above them, he nodded. "Yeah...it's, uh...pretty damn amazing."

"You think it feels good now, just wait until we get you out of that chair on your own," Seth chuckled, lightly punching his shoulder.

"How long until then?"

Seth met his eyes and shrugged; there really was no definite timeline he could give. "Don't know. Everyone makes progress at a different pace."

At Edward's dismal nod, Seth patted the pad and stood. "Keep your head up, Edward. We'll get there. You know what they all say, Rome wasn't built in a day."

Three more times before the end of his session, Edward raised and lowered his right leg of his own will and effort. Upon leaving the center, Seth praised him on his hard work, and with a friendly smile, told him to go out and celebrate.

And celebrate he did.

That night, Bella arrived at his house to find the driveway packed, and cars lining the street on both sides. From the sidewalk she could hear laughter and music floating from within the house; the sound of it brought a smile to her face. Entering inside, she was almost positive she'd walked into the wrong residence as more people were milling about than she'd seen since the afternoon of his return home from the hospital. She greeted everyone casually with a kind smile as she made her way toward the den, even pausing on her journey a handful times to mingle and catch up with some of his friends that called out to her. But it wasn't until she saw Edward that her soft smile lit up her entire face.

With a beer in his hand, his head was tossed back as he laughed. Just mere feet away from him, sat Felix and Demitri, arguing over who could carry the most hose up to the top of the fire tower.

"Just wait until I get out of this chair," Edward chortled, pointing the neck of his beer bottle in their direction. "I'll dust both your asses. Just like the old days."

"Bella, sweetheart, you're finally here," Esme's warm voice called out to her. Hearing her name called, Edward's eyes flashed in her direction, his brilliant smile returning as he set his bottle down on the coffee table beside him. A warm arm wrapped around hers and her gaze turned to the side to see Esme smiling at her. "How was work? Are you hungry at all? I left a plate of eggplant parm' in the oven for you. It should still be warm."

"Work was...work," Bella laughed lightly as she spotted Edward wheeling his way toward her from the corner of her eye. "I might be hungry in a little bit. I had a late lunch with one of my coworkers."

"Okay," Esme smiled again, patting her arm. "Just let me know if you get hungry and I'll heat it up for you, alright?"

"Thank you." As Esme walked away, Bella turned her gaze to Edward, a snicker falling from her lips. "Dare I ask what the occasion is?"

"Just a good day," he shrugged, motioning for her to follow him out onto the back deck. She'd nearly made it outside before a feminine voice shouted her last name, beckoning her to turn, only to see Rosalie heading toward her with a drink in her hand.

"You're late, you've got some catching up to do."

Taking the drink from her, she stood there, fully aware she was gaping, unsure of what to make of the ear to ear grin on Rose's face.

"It's not poisoned...is it?" she asked, slightly amused but mostly wary as Rosalie laughed mirthfully while shaking her head.

"You know...if you keep that up, one of these days I might actually like you enough to consider you a friend."

"Uh, thanks?...I guess?"

After closing the sliding glass door, she turned to see Edward chuckling under his breath.

"Don't let her fool you, she already does. She just likes being difficult."

"Ah ha. I'll keep that in mind," Bella snickered, raising her drink to her nose and making him laugh. "What? I had to check. So what are we doing out here when the party's in there?"

Edward cleared his throat and gestured to a patio chair. "I just wanted to talk, and it's kind of rowdy in there."

"All ears. Lay it on me," she smiled after taking her seat. He wheeled himself closer to her and took her drink from her hands to place it on the table. Taking her hands in his own, he stumbled over the words he wished to say to her.

"I, um...I know I haven't been the easiest person to be around lately. I'm sorry for that. I'm sorry for all the times I've snapped at you...or acted like an ass toward you. I've..."

She lightly gripped his fingers encircling her hands as he trailed off, trying to bring him back to her from wherever his mind had ventured off to. When his eyes came back to her, he shook his head and lowered his gaze to their joined hands.

"I've never been like that before...I don't...I don't want you to think that's who I was...or am...I just..."

Ever since his talk with Charlie, recollection of the way he'd treated her had been weighing heavily upon his conscience. While she was capable of understanding that it wasn't her he was angry with, as she hadn't been at the tender age of nine with Charlie, he still felt the need to ensure her that she'd done nothing wrong; nothing to deserve his hideous behavior.

For five days he'd tried thinking of a way to convey how deeply sorry he was, but he'd come up shorthanded at every turn. Grand gestures had never been a strong suit of his, and until recently, he'd never felt the need to make one. At the very least, he felt he owed her a sincere apology, but after having said it, he felt as though it wasn't enough; could never _be _enough. The two simple words just weren't capable of erasing the hurt he'd caused, and for that, he was even more sorrowful.

"How can I make it up to you?"

His eyes were pleading with her to make a demand of him, but she did no more than smile softly as she shook her head. "You have nothing to make up for, Edward..."

"No, Bella, I do...I really do. Please, anything. Anything at all. Just tell me what to do."

Her lips pursed as his thumbs caressed the backs of her hands, his eyes still pleading with her. She truly didn't feel he owed her a thing. The apology he'd offered had been more than enough, but as the chill in the evening air began to seep into her skin and rob her of warmth, she conceded to his request—frivolous as her demand would be.

"Carve the pumpkins with me."

"What?" he snorted out a laugh. "That's it? Are you serious?"

"As a heart attack," she nodded, wanting nothing more than to head back inside where the warmth was calling to her. "After everyone leaves, you and me at the kitchen table."

Hours later, at the kitchen table with a rather large pumpkin in his lap, is exactly where Edward found himself. Changed from her work clothes into a pair of his sweats and one of his t-shirts, Bella sat beside him, a trash can between them to catch the seeds and flesh they were scooping out with smiles on their faces. At ten after midnight, they emerged from the house and placed their works of art on the porch floor, one on either side of the small ramp. Ever conscious of the firefighter blood pumping and coursing through the veins of the man beside her, Bella brandished an LED tea light candle to him with a flourish that made him laugh. As they headed back inside to shower and turn in for the night, one goofy, toothy Jack-O-Lantern, and one handsome flaming Maltese cross flickered away long into the night.

Halloween night, after spending hours passing out candy to children by the van-full, they sat together on the couch playing cards until the wee hours of the morning. Both nights, Edward had asked her to stay—and she had. With little argument. And so began a change in their accustomed routine.

During the week, Edward continued to attend his therapy sessions, with an additional hour tacked onto his Monday, Wednesday, and Friday sessions for his aquatic therapy. Saturday afternoon he returned to the center once again for the single hour in the basement pool, but instead of heading down with Seth alone, Bella accompanied them.

The enclosed room smelled of chlorine, the familiar scent striking a moment of nostalgia in Bella as she dropped their folded towels onto a poolside bench. The echoes of their voices off the walls, combined with the chlorinated air brought her back to the days of her childhood when her parents would bring her to the local Y on hot summer days. She'd loved going there, swimming with the other children, playing games in the water, and capturing her parents' attention each time she built up the courage to jump off the next to highest diving board. She never did work up the courage for the high dive, but she'd tried. Repeatedly.

Slightly self-conscious after removing the terrycloth cover-up she'd tossed on to make the trek into the basement, Bella quickly waded into the tepid water. The swimsuit she wore, borrowed from her mother, was anything but revealing; nothing more than a simple, black one-piece, but she'd never worn so little in Edward's presence.

"Shut it, Seth," she warned, her mashed lips belying her tone. He just chuckled and winked, restraining himself from asking when she'd traded in the barely there bikinis for the more conservative, grandmother look she was currently sporting.

"What? What'd I miss?" Edward asked curiously, having become distracted from his surroundings the very moment his eyes landed on Bella.

"Nothing," Bella snorted, halting in the water as he pulled his t-shirt up and over his head.

She'd only seen him shirtless a few times, shortly after his return home, and he'd been attractively sculpted then. But now, after relying so heavily on his upper body for maneuvering and mobility, his once toned physique had become cut and defined. Stone statues of mythical Gods had been chiseled with the sinfully beautiful musculature lines his torso and arms now boasted.

Heat surged like a tidal wave up her neck and into her face as she tore her gaze away, her breath trapped in her chest with little possibility of a discrete escape.

"I always feel like a giant tea bag in this damn thing."

Saved by the grumblings of the man who'd stolen her breath away, she laughed and gathered a hold of herself before turning her gaze back to him. Seated in a plastic chair that slowly lowered him down into the water, Edward's lips pursed, making Bella snicker again as she waded toward him.

"It could be worse," she smiled as he quirked a brow at her. "You could be like a buoy with a big ol' life vest on."

"Don't give wise guy over there any ideas," he retorted, jerking his head in Seth's direction. "Yesterday he had me sitting on a foam noodle."

Seth just rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Quit whining and get into the water already."

With a laugh, Edward pushed himself off the chair and submerged himself beneath the water for a moment before surfacing. During his first session, he'd found that swimming was something he was still capable of. He just had to rely on the movement of his arms rather than his legs to tread water, but he was fully capable of doing so and that knowledge thrilled him. Being in the water, he almost felt normal for brief moments in time.

"Mount up," Seth instructed, walking through the water and passing him one of the foam noodles he'd just been griping about.

"What should I do?" Bella asked, unsure of how she'd be participating.

Seth guided her to just a few feet in front of where Edward sat upon the foam floatation device, bracing himself with his arms stretched along the edge of the pool. "Now just hold your hands on the surface of the water."

Turning his attention to Edward, he grinned and took his place beside him. "I'll help with the left, but the right's all you, buddy."

"You know the drill. Bend and lower first, then bend and flex and try to touch her hand. Lower again, abduct outward, bring it back in, and then we'll switch sides. Ready?"

"Yep," Edward nodded, already bringing his right knee up.

It was easier in the water, just as Seth said it would be, the buoyancy helping to buffer the strain of the weight of his legs, and assist in the fluidity of his movements, but it was still a slow process. The muscles in the lower half of his body lacked the strength they needed to combat the water's natural resistance with ease.

"You're doing great, Edward," Bella smiled fifteen minutes into their session, her fingers curving over the arch of his foot as it touched her hand. He smiled back at her faintly, knowing she was trying to boost his spirit as Seth manipulated his left leg for him. He tried not to think of how little progress he'd made with that side of his lower body, and focus on how far he'd come with the other, but it was hard not to think of with Seth's capable hands controlling his leg's movement.

"So what do you guys have planned for the rest of this weekend? Anything fun?" Seth asked with casual curiosity.

"Two of my friends have been bugging me for a girl's night...they wanted to do dinner and a movie or something, but I don't know," Bella shrugged. She wanted to go if for nothing more than to spend some time with Tanya and Irina. She hadn't spent much time with them in recent months, too involved with Edward and the happenings in his life to commit to more than phone calls and a handful of brief luncheons with her closest friends, but she felt guilty leaving him behind.

"Tanya and Irina, right?" Edward asked, assuming the women he'd met once or twice before were who she'd been referring to. At her slight smile and nod, his head tilted to the side and he chuckled. "You should go. Emmett, Jasper, and the guys are coming over tonight for a hockey game. You'd be bored to death surrounded by a bunch of puck-heads."

"Are you sure? I don't have to go..."

"Bella, _go_," he laughed, shaking his head as Seth slowly brought his left leg out to the side. "Do something fun for _you_ for once, please."

"Okay," she agreed, a slow smile spreading across her lips as she nodded.

"Good stuff," Seth chuckled. "I got my money on the Flames tonight. Who're you rootin' for?"

And just like that, with one simple question, the remaining forty minutes of the session dissolved into an passionate debate of new players, stats, and team standings that left Bella bewildered, but amused all the same. Knowing he'd be at home enjoying his night of hockey on the big screen while surrounded by his friends, she felt excited by the thought of spending a night surrounded by her own.

Leaving the rehab center, Bella and Edward were all smiles as he extended an invitation to Seth to join him and his friends at his house. It thrilled Bella to see a friendship blossoming between the man she cared for and the man who'd been almost family to her years before. It saddened her that she and Seth had lost contact with one another in the years following her breakup with Jacob, but now that they'd reconnected, she was determined to not allow it to happen again.

Upon arriving home, Bella pulled into the driveway beside the Chief's truck. Inside the house, Carlisle sat at the kitchen table flipping through equipment catalogs while Esme fluttered about the kitchen, pulling together ingredients for a buffet of what looked to be finger foods for the evening's gathering.

"Hey, son. How was therapy?" Carlisle asked, his gaze lifting from the pages as Edward and Bella joined them.

"Good, I guess. What are you browsing for now?" Edward questioned as his mother came to his side briefly, kissing the top of his head. "Hi, Mom."

Keeping his attention focused on his father as Bella and Esme headed into the kitchen together, Edward propped his elbow on the arm of his wheelchair and rested his head against his loose fist. Carlisle leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest as he ghosted a chuckle.

"Wishfully thinking more than browsing. Next year's budget isn't going to allow much room for raises, much less new equipment—not with three new recruits coming in before the end of the year."

Edward grunted in response, lowering his gaze to his lap. "Is that when Guseman's taking over Lieutenant? Who's moving up to Sergeant?"

"Where the hell did you hear that?" Carlisle asked, his head shooting to the side as his brow furrowed.

"One of the guys overheard you arguing with Commissioner Eleazar. Alec told me about it a few weeks ago."

"Bunch of eavesdropping little..." Carlisle trailed off, clenching his teeth. "How long have you been stewing over that bit of _bullshit_?"

Edward's gaze shot up, unsure what to make of his father's agitation. "Bullshit?"

"Yes, Edward. Complete and utter _bullshit_," Carlisle confirmed, and then shook his head. "Do you really think I would have kept something like that from you? You know better than anyone that anything that doesn't come directly either from me, or Eleazar, is heresay. What, exactly, did they tell you they overheard?"

Edward answered, smoothing his hand over his hair. "That if I wasn't back by the end of the month, which obviously I wasn't, that Guseman would be stepping in."

"So not only are they nosy, but deaf as well? _Spectacular_," Carlisle deadpanned, rubbing his hands over his face. "Look, son, if anything was going on in the station that affected you, you'd be the first person to hear about it. Guseman's stepping up as _acting_ Lieutenant. It's not permanent."

Watching the relief flood his son's face, Carlisle had half a mind to call an emergency station meeting and verbally lash each and every one of those gossip hounds soundly. If they were going to waste their energy on eavesdropping, the least they could do was relay correct information.

"What those idiots overheard was a..._debate_," Carlisle edited his choice of words, not wanting to admit how heated the discussion had been, "over who would replace John as Captain when he retired at the end of the month. My argument had been that the spot was rightfully yours, but right now, that's not an option being that no one has any real idea of when you'll be able to return to duty."

Edward didn't miss the fact that his father had said _when _and not _if_, but the confidence in his tone when he'd spoken the word did little to quell Edward's ever present fears of what may come to be. He might never be able to return to active duty. He might regain his ability to move his legs, but not walk. He might never get any better than he was at that very moment.

Even with the progress he'd made, Edward's life was still full of unknowns; his future still shrouded in uncertainty.

"So what's going to happen then?" he asked, feeling the opportunity that had been just within grasp, slip between his fingers. He didn't have a problem with Guseman filling his role in his absence; that much was to be expected. Being stepped over for a promotion, however, he wished to avoid if at all possible.

"Nothing. For the time being...everything's just business as usual," Carlisle answered, causing Edward's gaze to dart up once more, his brow furrowing in confusion. A faint smile crept across Carlisle's lips as he shook his head, thinking of the exact words Captain Ellington spoke to him upon hearing of the issue at hand. "John suddenly had second thoughts about retirement...doesn't think he's ready to trade in the action for gardening and soap operas with his wife, or so he said. "

Standing in the kitchen, watching over the interaction between the two men, Esme wrapped her arm around Bella's shoulders when the young woman leaned into her side.

"Did he do that for Edward?" Bella whispered, turning her glistening eyes toward the woman beside her. Esme nodded, smiling and rubbing Bella's shoulder. "How long will he postpone retiring?"

"Until the right man for the job is ready to take it."

* * *

**A/N****: What can I say? You guys are flippin awesome. You know this, I know this, but alas, I cannot tell you all enough just how amazing your support has been. For those of you tweeting/rec'ing this story I adore the hell out of you for it! **

**6 more chapters left to go! There will be one more this week, next week will be a single shot, then the following week will be another 2-fer. The final two chapters before the epilogue go hand in hand, so I'll most likely be updating Tues/Thurs. The epilogue will post the following Tuesday. **

**Please don't forget to check out the "Share Your Inspiration" Contest going on right now. Voting for your favorite fics begins the 16th and ends on the 26th. I doubt I'll win, but every vote if you can figure out which one's mine will help ^_^ To find the stories, just copy and paste the following address into your browser and replace the (dot)s with a . **

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**See you all on Thursday! XOXO ~ Jersey**


	35. Chapter 34

Disclaimer: Twilight character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. All intellectual properties associated with _Through the Flames_ belong to SparklingTwilight. Plagiarism is theft. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization. Thank you.

* * *

The Confessional Hour

Saturday, December 19th, Edward awoke from slumber slowly. Stretching his fingers, they seemed to be ensnarled in a mess of silky strands. A familiar weight rested in his lap, but his grogginess was too heavy to discern its origin. Disoriented, his eyes opened and drifted around the room before falling to his lap. Even in his still waking state, he'd have recognized the brunette chaos of hair his hand was buried in anywhere. Ever so gently, he untangled his hand and brushed the hair away from Bella's face.

Resting his hand over her ear, Edward traced the curve of her soft cheek with his thumb. There was a sharp tugging at his heart as he watched her eyes move behind closed lids, and in that moment, as his head fell back and his gaze turned to the ceiling, he knew he was a goner. He'd fallen; hard and fast, and for someone he could no longer bear the thought of losing. In the last two months, he'd suffered more ups and downs than ever before, but she'd been there for him every step of the way.

She'd been there to calm his furious storms when he began having to fight Workman's Comp to continue paying for his physical therapy after just a little over two months of treatment.

She'd been there to hold him with steady arms and soothe him with tender words each time he shattered under the weight of his reality, and she'd been there to help him pick up the pieces in the aftermath.

She'd been there to ease his heavy heart when their holiday table held the empty seat of one of his nearest and dearest friends—his Peanut.

Thanksgiving had been a relatively solemn affair; conversation at the dinner table stilted by what her empty seat represented. Tension filled the air surrounding the table, but Edward could only feel heartache at Alice's absence, and remorse for the discomfort Charlie and Renee likely suffered through the evening.

The first Saturday of December, Bella was there for him again with a never ending supply of smiles to which he could return as he feigned jolliness while belting out "_Ho-ho-ho...Merry Christmas_" repeatedly. The annual fire department Santa Run had once been Alice's favorite event of the year, and for years she'd faithfully sat beside him, playing Mrs. Clause to his Santa as they passed out candy and collected toys for charity. Her absence on a day they'd shared and enjoyed together from the very beginning of their friendship, nearly made him wish his station brothers hadn't wasted the effort in getting him into the passenger seat of the old '39 Ford fire engine. Nearly, but not quite, as seeing Bella take such joy in participating in one of his station's traditions kept his spirits afloat.

As his eyes drifted back down to her sleeping form, his thumb still caressing her cheek with the lightest of touch, his thoughts turned toward his past experiences with the emotion that was building within him. Love, something he'd felt with varying depth for few of the women that had come in and out of his life in the past. He'd never truly had his heart broken; had never fallen so deeply for someone that their departure crumbled him, but he'd been hurt once—by someone he'd once considered a good friend.

The end of their relationship hadn't been a dramatic or drawn out event. Swift and with few words exchanged, he'd watched her gather what few of her belongings had accumulated in his home over their year long courtship with tears in her eyes. For months after he'd held her hand while walking her to her car, and kissed her forehead in a speechless goodbye as they embraced, he tortured himself with thoughts of what could have been if he'd just begged her to stay. Those thoughts had circled his mind continuously, but no matter what his imagination envisioned, he'd known the truth. Whether he let her go, or begged her to stay, their fate would have always been the same. Letting her go earlier on just saved them the broken hearts postponing their inevitable demise would have cost them.

Kate had been a good woman; sweet, kind, and generous, but she hadn't been strong enough to willingly accept the sacrifices his career could impose on not only him, but onto her as well. Edward understood her reasoning, her _need_ to leave him, despite what she felt for him. He understood it well enough back then at the young age of twenty four, just as well as he understood it now at twenty nine—he couldn't live without the career, and she couldn't live with it. Their relationship had been destined to end in stalemate from the very start, and in taking the risk of trying to forge what wasn't meant to be, they'd lost a friendship they'd both cherished.

It was this part of his history with romance that conflicted him to the core as he gazed upon the beautiful woman curled into him while she slept. Angry words or hurtful actions hadn't been the wedge that had driven his friendship with Kate apart. What had driven them apart was love—the love she felt for him that cultivated the insufferable fear she felt at the thought of losing him, and he couldn't stand the thought of losing Bella's presence in his life in such a way.

He'd thought Kate had understood and accepted him and his willingness to make such great sacrifices, but he'd made the mistake of not knowing for sure if she truly did. He couldn't risk taking that chance, that leap of faith, again. Regardless of what he felt for Bella, and what he suspected she felt for him, he needed to know, without a hint of uncertainty, that she was capable of accepting every part of him, and his life, while aware of the heartache that loving him could cause her.

Reaching over to the end table beside the couch, Edward picked up his cell phone to check the time. Despite having not fallen asleep until after two in the morning, he'd awoken well before his alarm was set to go off. Spasms in his legs, and cramps in the muscles of his back had left him in such discomfort while lying flat on the bed that he'd had to move to the reclining seat of the couch. He'd pleaded with Bella for her to use the comfort of his bed, but she'd stayed with him there, curled up on the couch, doing what she could to ease his pain. For over an hour she'd tried to massage away his aches with kneading and caressing strokes, but as amazing as it had felt, it had brought forth little relief. Sleep had been impossible to achieve until he'd finally relented and taken his prescribed muscle relaxants and pain killers.

Not wanting to wake her, as it was only a quarter after seven and the alarm had been set for eight thirty, Edward contented himself with a muted television program while she continued to sleep soundly. Every so often, his gaze would fall to her serene face and his fingers, with a mind of their own, would caress her soft skin; a graze of her temple, a trace of her arched brow, a smoothing away of her bangs. Loving touches that spoke volumes of the emotion he kept locked firmly within himself while she was awake.

All too soon for his liking, the alarm sounded and she awakened with a jolt. Quick to silence the grating noise, he smiled faintly down at her as she rolled onto her back and rubbed her eyes with loosely fisted hands; something he'd come to know, with how often she would spend the night, would leave black smudges of day old mascara beneath her eyes. But not this morning. Their Friday night had been spent only with each other as company—no visiting friends, or sports games, or nights out dancing with the girls. Just the two of them, free of make-up and dressy clothes. Though he was reluctant to admit it aloud, it was nights such as those he liked best. Quiet, peaceful, and comfortable.

Sparkling brown eyes looked up at him from where her head rested in his lap as her hands returned to the warmth beneath the blanket. Smiling, she turned toward him once more and he felt her playful fingers lightly scratching his side as she greeted him with a husky voice. "Morning. What time did you wake up?"

"A little after seven," he replied, halting his hand's movement to brush the lock of hair away that had fallen in front of her eye. "How'd you sleep?"

"Good...I should be asking _you_ that, though." Her gaze was warm and portrayed her concern as her hand moved around to his lower back, gently rubbing the muscles that had been hurting him the night before. "How are you feeling? Did you sleep okay?"

"Been better, been worse," he shrugged, his eyes closing in pleasure at her kneading touch.

"Did you sleep okay?" she asked again, conscious that he hadn't answered.

He nodded silently, not wanting her to worry over the fact that he really hadn't, or have her assume that it had been because of her that he hadn't. In truth, having her spend the night on the couch with him hadn't caused him any further discomfort. On the contrary, really; he quite enjoyed the occasional nights they spent sleeping together on his couch, but it had been the chaotic dreams, brought on by the narcotics in his medications, that had soured his rest.

"You don't have to go today if you're not feeling up for it," Bella voiced quietly, gently circling the tips of her fingers against a knotted muscle.

His eyes opened and focused on her as he reached around his side to grasp her hand. He kissed the back of it in appreciation and lowered it to the blanket, smiling as he spoke. "He'll only turn fifty once, Bella. If it gets to be too much I'll head home early, but I want to at least show up."

"Okay."

As they began to rise and prepare for the day, Edward wondered at how naturally their friendship had evolved. There were no awkward moments as they moved around each other in the kitchen, brewing coffee, washing the dishes from their late night snack, toasting bagels, and feeding the dogs. There was no tension from a lack of conversation, the silence between them easy to bear with just flitting glances that were answered with soft smiles as they made their way to the table. And when she was ready to leave, her day's plans taking her away from him to help her mother get everything ready for her father's fiftieth birthday bash, her leaning in to kiss his cheek had been anything but surprising.

After the front door latched behind her, Edward let the dogs inside and made his way back to the couch. By the time Alec had wandered down the stairs, still half asleep as he staggered his way into the kitchen for a cup of coffee before dropping himself into the recliner, Edward had been lost in his thoughts of Bella for over an hour. Over and over the possibilities of what life with her as more than just his friend could be like circled in his mind, along with the possibilities of what he could lose if he took that chance to build something more with her.

Unbidden, his mouth formed words his mind hadn't foreseen him saying aloud. "I love her."

"Love who?...What?" Alec questioned, his sleep addled mind scrambling to catch up to the unfamiliar words spoken by his friend. An extremely late night out with some of the guys from the station, on top of a few too many drinks—and the fact that in all the years they'd known each other, Edward had only ever spoken the L word once when not referring to a member of his own family—had left Alec scratching his head in bewilderment.

Turning his head to the side, away from the still muted television he hadn't even been watching, Edward clarified. "Bella. I love her."

"You'd be an idiot not to," Alec responded, sinking deeper into the chair and pausing to take a sip of the steaming black liquid. "What I don't get is why you're telling me and not her."

"I...can't."

Alec's eyes opened from their resting state and drifted to the side to scrutinize the man sitting just feet from him. "Alright, I'll bite. Why can't you?"

Edward's gaze remained distant and fixed to the bleak white wall above the television for long moments before his head shook. "I don't want to lose her. I don't want to ruin the friendship we have by trying to turn it into something more." His gaze turned toward Alec. "I can't risk having it turn out the way it did with Kate."

"You love her, want more with her, don't want to lose her...but you're not going to tell her any of that because it's safer to have her in your life as nothing more than a friend," Alec summarized, his tone incredulous.

"You're an idiot."

Noticing Edward begin to bristle, Alec waved him off exasperatedly with one hand. He was too tired, too hung-over, and in too unpleasant a mood already as it was to get into an argument first thing in the morning. "I'm not trying to pick a fight with you, I'm just telling it like it is. If you think that keeping her as a friend and nothing more while you feel for her the way you do will keep you from losing her, you're an idiot. That's not a jab, that's a fact."

"What are you gonna do when she starts dating someone? You can't sit here and tell me that you won't be eaten alive by jealousy."

"What do you want me to say, Alec?" Edward groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. His arms crossed over his chest as he shook his head and sighed, turning his head to look at his friend. "I didn't say it would be easy, but it's better than the alternative...for both of us."

"You need to pull your head out of your ass and stop comparing Bella to someone from your past. That's your first mistake. Bella's not Kate," Alec responded, his final words stated pointedly. "If she was, she wouldn't have stuck around this long. Kate bailed out at the first sign of the dangers we face becoming a reality she had to deal with."

"I wish you'd get over that shit already," Edward grumbled. "I never faulted her for not being able to handle knowing what we put ourselves through, and you shouldn't either. Kate was a good woman..."

"I never said she wasn't," Alec denied, cutting Edward's argument short. "All I'm trying to get you to see is that you're pissing a damn good opportunity right down the drain for no good reason. Bella's been here for you every step of the way, man. She's seen you with tubes and wires and shit coming out of you, looking half a shade away from death. She's been through hell and back with you and your mood swings, and through all of it she's done everything she possibly could have to help you in any way you needed it."

Alec shook his head as he tried to understand how Edward could think, for even a fraction of a moment, that Bella would leave him at the mere hint of troubled waters ahead. Try as he might to understand it, he couldn't. "If Bella was going to run because she was afraid of losing you to the job, she would have left already with all that she's seen, but she hasn't. That should say something to you, because it sure as shit says a whole lot to me...and everyone else around here."

As Edward's head dropped to the back of the couch, his eyes closing as his mind once again became overwhelmed with conflicting thoughts, Alec headed back into the kitchen to refill his coffee mug. Before heading back upstairs to take a shower, he paused and leaned against the wall at the entrance to the den.

"Before you decide on anything, just think about what you're doing, Edward," he spoke, lifting his gaze from the mug in his hands. "Women like Bella are hard to find. You'd be a fool to let her go like this."

Across town, Bella and her mother stood side by side in a local bakery, waiting for the young employee helping them to retrieve their order. The corner store was busy, as it always was in the weeks leading up to Christmas; people coming and going in a rush, their faces flushed from the cold and smiles replacing grimaces as they're greeted with delicious scents and festive decor. Bella's own lingering smile as she reached out to take a bite sized pastry from the sample tray upon the counter had Renee tilting her head to the side in curious observation, a soft smile upon her own lips.

"What?" Bella chuckled, a pastry halfway to her mouth as she turned toward her mother. "Want one? Their baklava is to die for."

"You're in a good mood today."

The simple comment had Bella's smile stretching wider as the sweet treat melted in her mouth and her eyes fell to the floor as she nodded. Remembering falling asleep to Edward's fingers running through her hair and waking to his gentle touch upon her face had a rosy blush rising to her cheeks that had nothing to do with the frigid winter air blustering just outside the shop.

"I am...I always am this time of year though," she replied, trying to evade her mother's typical nosiness.

"Mmhm," Renee hummed a laugh, pointing to the tray for Bella to hand her one of the baklava squares. She contemplated for a brief moment whether or not the cause of Bella's near constant smile that morning had anything to do with a change in her and Edward's relationship, but she decided not to press the matter. Her daughter's obvious happiness that day was enough to content her—for the time being at least, but she'd most definitely have her eye on the pair of them later that afternoon.

"How is Edward's therapy going? I haven't seen him since just after Thanksgiving...where did the time go?"

"I have no idea where this entire _year_ went," Bella snickered, shaking her head and turning fully toward Renee. "He's doing good though. He's making great progress with his right leg...his left's still a little iffy, but I think that aquatic therapy stuff is doing him a world of good. Did I tell you he was standing in the pool all by himself the other day?"

"No!" Renee gasped, grabbing a hold of Bella's arm in delighted surprise. "You didn't. That's _wonderful_!"

"Yeah, it is," Bella grinned, nodding. "You should have seen his face when Seth told him it shouldn't be long before he can do it without the water helping him. Gosh, Mom..."

She trailed off, a tears prickling her eyes and making them glisten a she fought to keep herself composed. Some days, she felt as though her emotions could be just as tumultuous as Edward's. "He's just...he pushes himself so hard, and he wants it _so _bad, but I keep worrying. I mean, everything looks so hopeful, but what if, you know?"

She discretely swiped the moisture away from her eyes and shook her head. "What if he hits a certain point and never gets any better than that? What if he eventually can stand, but not walk...or walk, but not without a walker or cane? What if he makes it through all of this, but can't return to work? He falls so low when he thinks he's not making any progress...I'm terrified of what his rock bottom might look like if what I've already seen is just the tip of the iceberg."

Renee had just wrapped her arms around her daughter to soothe her fears when their name was called. She pulled back and pressed the palm of her hand to Bella's cheek, swiping a tear away with her thumb. "It'll be okay, honey. You just have to trust that everything will work out the way it's supposed to."

After paying for Charlie's birthday cake, a cookie platter, and the two sugar-free pies they'd ordered weeks before, Renee and Bella hastily made their way back to Bella's car. Forecasts were calling for snow just a few days before Christmas, but the gray skies and bitter winds made it feel as though they'd be seeing flurries of white ahead of schedule. Shivering as Bella turned the key in the ignition and turned up the heat, Renee turned toward her with concerned eyes.

"Baby, can I ask you something?" she questioned, covering Bella's hand on the gear shift with her own to halt her from putting the car in reverse. "If Edward doesn't ever fully recover, or never goes back to his career...will you still care for him the way you do now?"

"Wh...what?" Bella sputtered, her brow furrowing and eyes flashing to her mother's face in bewildered anger. "Why wouldn't I? What kind of question is that, Mom?"

"Please don't take offense, honey," Renee responded softly, apologetically. "You're just so emotionally invested in him, and even though you try not to let others see that, we can. I worry, is all.

"I'm not saying that either myself, or your father, wouldn't support your choice. We would, you know that, don't you? We just want to make sure that you're not running headlong into something you're unsure of."

Bella's gaze focused on the frigid world around them through the windshield—people walking by bundled up from head to toe, barren, leafless trees, cars driving by with occasional bows tied to antennae or wreaths strapped to grills—and her thoughts turned to the man who owned her heart. She couldn't even be sure when, exactly, she'd fallen so deeply for him, and it had never been her intent to, but at some point she had.

At one time, she'd wanted nothing more than to be his friend, but in the quiet moments they shared together, he'd endeared himself to her. Somewhere in the mix of smiles he reserved just for her, the way he'd sometimes reach for her hands when he was speaking to her or pull her closer to him on the couch while they watched TV, and the text messages he sent mid-day during the week just to say hello to her, she'd fallen in love with him.

Still gazing out of the windshield, Bella spoke the words she'd thought a million times, but had never said aloud.

"I love him, Mom." Her gaze flickered away from the windshield to look at her mother beside her. In those warm eyes, glistening with unshed tears, Renee saw the very truth of every word she spoke. "Whether he walks again, goes back to work one day, or stays just as he is now...I love him. I can't change the way I feel for him, and I don't want to."

Renee's hand clasped hers and gave it a gentle little squeeze as she smiled softly. "Have you told him how you feel?"

"No," Bella sighed, shaking her head. "He's got so much to deal with as it is. It just feels like telling him would put more pressure on him, and I'm content with where we are...wherever it is that we are, anyway. Some days I'm just not sure, but others it feels like..."

"Feels like what?" Renee encouraged, glad her daughter was finally opening up to her.

Bella's gaze returned to her and she shrugged slightly. "Like he might feel a little of what I do, too...maybe...I don't know."

"Well...I, for one, think he does," Renee smiled, patting Bella's hand. "And I think you two would make a wonderful couple...as long as he keeps treating you as well as he has recently. A few months back I wasn't so sure, and neither was your father, for that matter."

Bella snickered as she put the car in reverse and carefully backed out of their parking spot. As they made their way toward the hall they rented at the local VFW, she assured her mother that Edward had been on his best behavior toward her ever since she'd been in the hospital with the flu back in September. While it was a slight fib, as she'd had a few minor run-ins with his temper since then, he'd caught himself with nothing more than a warning look from her as she walked away from him to give him time to cool off. Sometimes it took minutes, other times a few hours, but every time he'd sought her out again after he'd calmed down, he'd gone above and beyond to show his sincere remorse.

Shortly after two, Bella and Renee had finished getting everything prepared for the party and were heading back home to get themselves ready. At the same time, Alec and Edward were heading back from the rehab center to do the same. For the short hour Edward had been with Seth, he'd been able to focus on something other than Bella, and his feelings for her, but as the passing time brought him closer to seeing her again, his thoughts centered upon her once more. When Alec pulled the car into the driveway, Edward made no move to unbuckle his seatbelt; instead, he just turned his head to look at the man beside him.

"I'm driving myself crazy."

Alec burst out laughing at his declaration and shook his head as he removed the keys from the ignition. "Edward, no one's saying you have to shit or get off the pot at this very moment. Things are going good between you two the way they are, right?"

"Yeah..."

"Then don't worry about it," Alec shrugged. "All I was saying was don't make a rash decision you'll regret later. If you don't feel right telling her how you feel, then wait until you do, but _don't_ tell her you don't want to be anything more than friends. There's no sense in burning bridges you might want to cross one day."

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**A/N****: Voting starts Sunday for the Share Your Inspiration Contest! Don't forget to cast your votes for your favorite stories ^_^ Hopefully mine's one of them LOL. Here's the link to the contest page:**

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**5 more chapters to go people! And the next one holds the answers to the question presented in this one that I KNOW all of you have been just DYING to get the answer to: Will he, or won't he take a chance on her? **

**Leave a review and tell me how excited you are to find out whether sparks fly or they go down in flames! LOL. See ya'll next Thursday!**


	36. Chapter 35

Disclaimer: Twilight character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. All intellectual properties associated with _Through the Flames_ belong to SparklingTwilight. Plagiarism is theft. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization. Thank you.

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Let Love's Light Shine

Christmas Eve, Edward's home was aflutter with activity. The voices of his family and friends filled the air with joyous laughter and the occasional impromptu holiday carol. The Christmas tree that Bella had coerced him into helping decorate, twinkled merrily at Edward as he sat in his recliner, baby Ian suckling a bottle while nestled safely in his arms. Beside them, his brothers roughhoused on the couch while they played the new video game they'd gifted to him. All was almost as it should be. Almost.

Alice was once again not in attendance for the family gathering, but Edward tried not to let it bother him as it didn't appear to be bothering Jasper as he thought it would—or perhaps _should_. Just the day before, as he and Bella drove her to the airport so she could spend the holidays home with her parents in Mississippi, he'd asked why she hadn't come for Thanksgiving, or the Santa Run. Alice's answer had been simple: because Jasper hadn't asked her to, and that, in and of itself, had spoken volumes to her. Coupled with Jasper's attitude throughout the day while his wife remained absent from where Edward felt she belonged, it spoke volumes to him as well.

Still, he'd made a promise to his Peanut to be friends until the end, and he intended to honor that promise. As she leaned into the passenger side of the car to hug him goodbye, he reminded her of the vow he'd made to her and asked for her to join him and Bella for New Year's Eve. With a laugh and a kiss to his cheek, she promised to be there—for him.

After gently pulling the bottle away, Edward shifted baby Ian in his arms and began softly patting his back. The fragrance of baby powder and formula tickled his nose and he wondered if the only time he'd ever experience that unique scent was while holding other people's children. It saddened him to think he'd never hold a fragile bundle of his own one day, but unlike the rest of his worries, this one had been weighing on him long before the disastrous night of his last fire call. Movement in his peripheral vision had his head turning in those moments of consideration for the possibilities of his future, to find Bella gazing upon him with a soft smile.

"What?" he asked, a slightly bashful smile crossing his lips as he wondered how long she'd been standing there watching him.

"Nothing," she snickered, pushing away from the wall and walking toward him. "You look good holding a baby. It suits you."

He nodded as she lowered herself down onto the arm of the chair, his smile growing wistful as he pressed his cheek lightly against Ian's, his hand smoothing down the baby fine hair on the back of his head. "I always wanted kids...still do...someday, anyway."

"They'll be lucky to have you." Bella leaned against the back of the recliner, her arm resting behind Edward's head and propping up her own as she softly ran the pads of her fingers over Ian's bright blond, silky strands. Her hand settled on Edward's upper arm as she lowered it, and her thumb ran back and forth across the fabric of his t-shirt.

"Is your back still bothering you?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "But I don't want to take anything for it yet."

"Okay, just let me know when you do," she replied, lightly scratching the back of his head. She smiled at him as he turned his head and leaned it into her touch.

From across the room, Alec watched them with a mix of envy and incredulity. He would have given near anything to have been given the chance to have someone like Bella in his life, and yet, Edward had the perfect opportunity right in front of him, but remained hesitant to take it. If it had been him, Alec would seized the opportunity the moment it had been presented with nothing more than a leap of faith, but it hadn't been him, and this was just one of the ways they were polar opposites of one another. Alec took risky chances _outside _of the job, Edward took them _on it_.

Finishing off the last of his beer, he checked his watch and sighed before standing. "Welp...that's it for me. Time to head home to the fam'."

"Momma-dukes dragging you to Midnight Mass tonight?" Edward chuckled, holding out his hand for their brotherly shake.

"You know it. Every year," he laughed, turning to look at the guys on the couch. "Em, you're still covering the first half of my shift tomorrow, right?"

"Yep," Emmett responded, not looking away from his game.

"Alright, I'm outta here. Merry Christmas everyone."

It wasn't long after Alec left that Charlie and Renee began saying their goodbyes as well. A light snow had begun to fall just after dinner, and they wanted to get home before the roads became hazardous. The warm hug Renee gave him along with a kiss to his cheek, and the firm handshake with the clap on the shoulder he received from Charlie, made Edward think back to Charlie's fiftieth birthday and how welcoming their family had been to him. Never before had he been to a family affair, not even his own, where he felt as though he just...fit in. But with her family, he did.

Until that day, he'd only been familiar with Charlie and Renee, but even with only just meeting the rest of the extended Swan family, they welcomed him with open arms and made him feel as though he were one of them; a part of their family. It felt good, and he found himself interacting with them with ease; something he'd never really been able to do with his own extended family.

Being around them also made Edward feel envious of the kind of family they had, and he wished that he could one day have one like them—or possibly have _them_ as his family. There hadn't been any arguments or lingering tensions disrupting the festive atmosphere during the gathering. There hadn't been any awkwardness between members of their family that hadn't seen each other in months, or even years in some cases. Just love, laughter, and fond memories in the making resided within the rented hall that day; just as it should have been.

"I'm going to get another piece of pie. Do you want some?" Bella asked, smoothing her hand over the back of his head to erase the trails her weaving fingers had left behind.

"Sure...can you heat it up a bit though?"

"I'll think about it," she snickered lightly, leaning in to kiss the top of Ian's head before rising from the arm of the chair.

"Gettin' all kinds of cozy over there, huh?" Emmett laughed after Bella left the room.

"Leave your brother alone," Carlisle chastised, swatting Emmett in the arm to get him to move over and make some room on the couch. "And turn the volume down. Ian looks about ready to fall asleep."

After taking his seat, Carlisle turned toward Edward and leaned against the arm of the couch. "Some of the guys were planning to have a few drinks together tonight down at E-9. Are you planning on going? Wish them a Merry Christmas?"

"No." Edward had known about it for weeks, and had thought about going, but with how much discomfort he was in, he didn't feel up to it.

"They missed you at the Christmas party last Friday night..."

"I didn't feel well, Dad," Edward groaned. "I stilldon't."

"You can't keep avoiding anything having to do with the department, Edward..."

"_I'm_ _not_..."

"You _are_, son. The only station function you've participated in since leaving the hospital was the Santa Run, and thatwas just because Bella practically begged you to do it..."

Edward closed his eyes, trying not to lash out as he'd become prone to doing. Over and over he repeated the same thought to himself in his mind: _He's your father and he's just trying to help._

"Pop, it's not a big deal. Let it go," Emmett cut in, wary of the tension that was descending upon the room. He knew his father's heart was in the right place, worried over how Edward had been distancing himself from the station, and the people still working in it, but he also knew how hard of a time his brother had been having lately and how much he didn't want everyone seeing him so miserable.

"You used to be involved in everything around there, but for the last few months it's like you can't get far enough away from it. Are you reconsidering coming back after you recover?"

"What? _No,_ I'm not reconsidering," Edward barked, as Emmett stepped in to take Ian before their arguing woke him, the irritation in Edward's voice instantly gaining the worried attentions of the women in the kitchen. "I just don't see the goddamn point in being around everyone when I feel like shit!"

"But you felt well enough the next day for Charlie's birthday get-together?"

"Hey! That's _enough_." Esme hollered. "Damnit, Carlisle. When will you learn that he won't hear what you're really saying when you speak like you're an...I can't even say the word."

"Asshole."

"Thank you, _Rosalie_," Esme clipped, her admonishment met only with a slight smirk and shrug.

Turning her gaze to her son, Esme's eyes were filled with remorse for the years she spent hoping they would one day learn how to communicate efficiently with one another outside of their jobs. "Edward, honey, your father loves you and just worries for your well being. We all do. If you say you just weren't feeling well enough to socialize with your friends, then there's nothing to argue about. Is there, Carlisle?"

"No," he sighed, and turned to look at his son. "Is that really the only reason?"

"Yes," he answered, but he knew it was a lie. So did everyone else.

Later that night, after everyone else had gone home, Edward took a hefty dose of pain killers and muscle relaxants before reclaiming the recliner as his bed for the night. Beside his chair, Bella laid quietly, stretched out along the couch while watching the tree lights twinkle. Wordlessly, she reached over to him, her hand skimming down his arm to find his hand, and she laced her fingers through his. Time seemed to stand still as she offered him her silent comfort, but she could almost feel when he decided to open up to her. Just a minute before his nearly whispered words broke through the silence surrounding them, his thumb began to caress the side of her palm.

"It's too hard being around them—the guys from the station..."

Bella squeezed his hand gently, her heart hurting for him, but she remained silent, letting him get out what he needed to without interruption.

"He wants me to still be active in the department...do shit with them, go to the meetings, stop by the station just to say hi or hang out or something, but he doesn't get how hard it is for me to be around all of it without knowing whether or not I'll ever be able to go back to doing what I love to do..."

Edward trailed off, his thoughts a chaotic mess. The two Percocets he'd taken weren't helping matters, either. His whole body was tingling, and just the slightest of movements would exacerbate the sense of vertigo the drugs inflicted upon him to the extreme point of making him feel severely nauseated. Those debilitating sensations made it incredibly difficult for him to keep his thoughts straight even when they weren't as jumbled a mess as they were right then.

"I just...don't get the damn point, ya know? What's the point of me hangin' around the firehouse just getting in everyone's way, or going to the meetings when most of what they talk about is who's on what duty for the next month, or showing up just to watch them run drills...it's bullshit. I'm not anywhere close to going back so it's pointless for me to be there. He thinks it'd make me feel better, but being around all that shit when I can't really be a _part _of it would just make me feel worse."

Bella slowly sat up as he spoke, resting her elbows upon the arm of the couch and tucking his hand beneath her chin, held between both of her own. Her thumbs caressed the back of his hand as he grew silent and stared off into the distance, his thoughts consuming him.

"Do you miss it that much?"

His head turned slowly, vaguely conscious not to move too quickly to avoid a dizzy spell, and he nodded once. "Yeah...I do."

"And you enjoyed doing stuff with them before? Hanging around the house on your days off and what not?"

"Sometimes..."

"Did you have fun doing the Santa thing a few weeks ago?"

"Yeah." As he said this, a slow smile crept across his lips at the memory of Bella's flushed cheeks and gorgeous smiles.

"So what's the problem?" His eyes opened, confusion filling them as he regarded her with a furrowed brow. "Just participate in the events or gatherings or whatever that you enjoy, and don't worry about the rest. Your dad wasn't saying you needed to attend _all _of them...at least I don't think that's what he meant. He just doesn't want you to shut out your friends, Edward, because that's what they are. They're not just coworkers.

"And you _love _the job—you're passionate about it. Something that means that much to you shouldn't bring you down...it should help lift you back up."

"It's not that easy," he sighed, his fingers closing around hers.

Pressing her cheek against their hands, she smiled sadly. "It doesn't have to be that hard either."

The longer Edward tried to contemplate the truth of her words, the heavier his eyelids became, and sooner rather than later, he slipped quickly into slumber. Bella watched him sleep peacefully for a few minutes, the twinkle of the Christmas tree lights flickering upon his face, before settling herself back down on the couch—all the while keeping their hands clasped.

Just before four a.m., the last of the flurrying flakes fell from the winter sky. The neighborhood was a picture of serenity, blanketed in a thin layer of sparkling white, but all was not as it appeared; for in the den of Edward's home, he writhed in silent agony. Brought out of his disorienting dreams by his growing discomfort, for a moment, he almost felt as though he were once again just waking up from his coma. Tears brimmed in his eyes as an hour passed and the return to sleep remained far from his reach. His fingers pressed and kneaded into the muscles of his lower back, but his ministrations provided little relief from the throbbing pain.

As quietly as he could manage, Edward maneuvered himself into his wheelchair. Tango, awakened by the distressed sounds his master had been making, followed him loyally throughout the lower level of the home. After a quick drink of water to swallow down another dose of medication, and a trip to the bathroom, Edward locked the wheels of his chair and pulled himself into his bed. Lying stomach down, he buried his face into a pillow and prayed for the pain to subside. Unaware that he'd woken Bella, Edward startled as the mattress dipped and groaned beside him.

"How long have you been up?" she asked softly, her voice barely above a hoarse whisper. Her hand slid up and down his back in long strokes, her worry filled mind guiding her instinctive actions.

"A while," he muttered, turning his face away from the pillow to see her. The sight of his bloodshot eyes in the dimly lit room pulled at her heart and her hand moved to caress his cheek.

"You should have woken me."

Her words hadn't been reprimanding or chiding, but spoken with a gentle tenderness that said more than just the words themselves could convey. And, for once, Edward understood. She wasn't upset that he'd tried to manage on his own, but because she cared for him and would do anything to help ease his suffering—and for that, he loved her even more.

"You needed rest..."

"You need it more," she whispered, her hand slipping beneath the back of his shirt. His eyes closed at the feel of her soft, warm hand gliding over his skin. "Lift up."

With his shirt tossed to the side, Bella knelt beside him and worked her small fingers against his tense muscles. Hands splayed across his upper back, she slid her hands downward in search of the knots causing him discomfort. His whimpering as she hit a particularly sore spot had her downward descent halted abruptly.

"Right here?" she asked, her knuckles beginning to knead against the tension as he nodded.

As the Percocets finally began to set in, Edward's whimpers and groans slowly trailed off into soft snores. In the light of the Christmas tree still twinkling in the corner, Bella's fingers lightly traced the length of his surgical scar. The vivid pink scar tissue, a six inch long line down the center of his lower back, contrasted dramatically against his pale skin. Looking at it, she was reminded just how close his family had come to losing him—how close _she_ had come to losing him before she'd ever even known him.

Softly, her lips touched the marred skin and left behind the faintest of kisses. Carefully, so as not to wake him, Bella slid from the bed and retrieved her blanket from the couch. As she gently laid it over him, he stirred, and with bleary vision, he reached for her hand.

"Come to bed."

At his groggy whisper, her eyes darted to the couch where she'd had every intent of returning—only to find Tango and Cash sprawled out across it. His fingers, wrapped loosely around her wrist, tugged gently. He watched as she bit her lip, contemplating momentarily before climbing over him, and he turned toward her as she settled in.

When she turned onto her side away from him, he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her back into his chest.

"Is this okay?" he breathed, the warmth of his breath tickling the bare skin of her neck. She smiled to herself as she brought the blankets higher up over them while he snuck his other arm beneath her head.

"Yes," she answered, a sigh of comfort escaping her lips as she relaxed into his embrace.

Being with him, lying together with him and feeling the heat of his body surround her, felt as natural as breathing to her. She no longer worried if it was inappropriate for them to be as affectionate with each other as they sometimes were without declaring their feelings for one another, and she didn't question any longer where she belonged in his life. Bella was content with the pace at which their relationship had grown, and continued to grow, and she was more than happy to accept what he was willing, or able, to give.

There had been many times he'd brought her to tears with his misdirected and unwarranted anger, but it was times like these that he made her fall so irrevocably in love with him. Times like these when he showed her with actions that she was special, that she was wanted in his life... that she was significant, to him.

Times like these when her hand rested delicately over his own and, without prompt or expectance, his fingers parted and laced together with her own.

Christmas morning, after eating the little bit that his unsettled stomach could handle of the delicious breakfast feast Bella had made him, Edward stretched himself out across the couch. Bella eyed him sadly as she wrapped her scarf around her neck.

"Are you sure, Edward?" she asked, hesitant to leave. "I don't mind staying."

"Bella, go," he shook his head, trying to smile. He wanted to go with her so badly, to see the family members of hers that had been so welcoming and kind to him, but he could barely tolerate sitting in his recliner, much less his wheelchair. Add to the lingering discomfort of his back the queasy stomach from the Percocets and the throbbing headache they left behind, and he felt fit for death.

"I want you to go and enjoy yourself."

"But I hate the idea of you sitting here alone on Christmas," she argued, her worry shimmering in her eyes as she lowered herself to the edge of the couch.

Edward couldn't help but admire how beautiful she looked in her close-fit white sweater, the snowflake pendant he'd given her for Christmas dangling against the porcelain skin of her chest just beneath the scarf surrounding her neck. His eyes raised from the shiny charm to her own and he reached out to tuck a lock of her silken curls behind her ear.

"That pendant looks beautiful on you."

"I love it," she blushed, smiling as her fingers reached up to touch the diamond flecked snowflake. "Thank you, again, but I know what you're doing. Stop trying to distract me."

He let loose a breathy chuckle as he shook his head, knowing for once he hadn't been trying to divert her attention. He'd merely been giving her a complement.

"Go Bella, really," he sighed, taking hold of one of her hands. "Open presents, eat tons of food...laugh and be merry and all that. Don't worry about me here. It's just another day to me, I'll be fine."

As she leaned down to hug him goodbye, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her cheek. "Tell everyone I said Merry Christmas and I'm sorry I couldn't make it, and save me some of your mom's apple pie."

She laughed as she stood and ran her fingers through his overgrown hair. He was due for another haircut soon, and she was sure he'd start griping about it any day now.

"I'll try to sneak a piece or two before Uncle Gil sticks his fork in it and claims the whole thing for himself. Promise to call if you change your mind or need anything?"

"Promise," he agreed, though he had no intentions of interrupting her time with her family.

As she stepped out of the front door, Bella had to do a double take. The walkway had been shoveled and salted, as had the entire driveway and sidewalk in front of the house. Even her car, parked in Edward's driveway, had been cleared off of all the snow that had fallen the night before.

"Merry Christmas, Bella!" a man's voice called out. Bella's gaze darted toward the neighboring house to see George, Edward's elderly neighbors' son, waving at her. With a smile on her face, she returned the greeting as she crossed the yard toward him.

"You didn't have to do this, but thank you, George," she said gratefully as he set aside his shovel.

"It was nothing," he laughed, shaking his head. "Just returning a favor."

At her confused expression, he clarified. "Edward's taken care of the shoveling and salting for my parents in this weather since my father threw his back out quite a few years back. I'm just paying it forward, I guess you could say."

"Well, thank you, again," Bella smiled, her heart warming at the thought of Edward looking out for his sweet neighbors out of the goodness of his heart. "Have a Merry Christmas, and please, wish your family the same from us."

George grinned widely at her as he nodded, pleased that the nice young man from next door had found such a lovely young woman to settle down with. "You, too."

After saying goodbye to him, Bella headed off to join her family in celebrating the holiday while Edward laid upon the couch with a heating pad beneath his back, watching marathons of holiday-centric movies. Across town, her Aunt Cheryl's house was filled to the brim with members of her family all carrying on, laughing, and bursting with joy.

But joy of her own was difficult to find.

Bella smiled as she hugged and greeted everyone, chuckled as Uncle Gil made an obnoxious toast after spiking the eggnog, and tried to look attentive while her cousin jabbered about the gifts she'd received from her parents and her fiancé the night before. She even joined in the household-wide chorus singing of a carol or two, but throughout it all, her thoughts remained with the man spending the holiday alone. They hadn't even made it to their early supper before her mother pulled her aside under the prose of needing help in the kitchen.

"Talk to me, baby. What's bothering you?" Renee cooed, cupping her daughter's cheek. "Did Edward just not want to come?"

"No, Mom," Bella shook her head and tried to smile as Renee lowered her hand. "He wanted to, he just really didn't feel up to it.

"I just..."she trailed off, her gaze falling to watch fingers trace a pattern in the granite countertop. "It doesn't feel right being here with everyone when he's all alone."

She would have felt better if at least _someone_ was with him, be it a friend or family member, but there was no one. Rosalie had taken Ian to her grandparents' in Puyallup early that morning. Emmett was working and he'd be joining Rosalie as soon as Alec came in to relieve him. Jasper had gone with their parents up to his grandmother's, none of them knowing Edward wouldn't be joining her at her family's gathering when they left first thing in the morning. Alice was in Mississippi, and all of his friends, if they weren't working, they were busy with their own families as well.

There was just no one around to be there with him, and it saddened her. Christmas was all about being with the ones you loved, and someone she loved was spending it alone.

"Then go be with him, honey," Renee urged softly. "You won't miss out on much here, just some jokes that only Gil understands the punch-line to, and a squabble or two over the drumsticks and last piece of pie."

"It's okay," Renee smiled, rubbing Bella's arm as she appeared to hesitate. "Let's put together some plates for you to take home, and you two can have Christmas dinner together. The family will understand."

"Thank you, Mom," Bella sighed, wrapping her arms around her mother.

"There's always next year, baby," Renee comforted. "These ups and downs won't last forever."

After helping her mother pack more of the food than was truly necessary for just the two of them, and apologizing to her family for leaving early, Bella began her journey through the snow covered roads back to Edward—back to where her heart had been pulling her since she'd left his house earlier that morning.

Nearly dozing off during the umpteenth rerun of '_A Christmas Story_', Edward's eyes shot open at the sound of the front door opening and closing.

"Alec?" he called out, assuming it could only be him returning to get ready for work. "Is that you, man?"

"No, it's me," Bella smiled, turning the corner into the den.

"Why'd you come back so early? It's only..." he trailed off to look at the clock. "Two-thirty."

She shrugged, setting the bag of food down on the coffee table before removing her coat and tossing it on the recliner. "It was just the same old get together as every other year—loud and chaotic. I'm not missing much."

Picking the bag back up off the coffee table to put the contents away in the kitchen, she eyed the movie on the television and smiled. "I'm just going to let the dogs out and go change back into my pajamas. I'll be back in a minute."

As her footsteps traveled up the stairs, Edward stared at the ceiling, torn between feeling grateful she'd come back to spend the day with him, and wishing her worry over him hadn't lessened the enjoyment she should have had while spending time with her family. He appreciated the fact that she cared for him so much, but at times like these, it was such a burden for her to bear. Knowing arguing with her would do neither of them any good, when her footsteps began to descend the stairs, he tossed the throw pillows behind him onto the floor and scooted back to make room for her when she returned after letting the dogs back in.

"You didn't have to come back so early...but I'm glad you're here," he said as he held up the blanket for her to join him. "Did you at least have fun while you were there?"

"A little," she admitted, looking up at him as he propped his head upon his loose fist. "Everyone said to tell you Merry Christmas and they hope you feel better soon, and Uncle Gil said next year you have to fight for the drumstick just like everyone else."

Edward chuckled as he laid his arm across her stomach beneath the blanket. "Is it that big of a deal?"

"In the Swan-Morrisey house it is," Bella laughed. "Having it on your plate after the bloody brawl is akin to being awarded the medal of honor."

"Who usually gets 'em?" Edward asked, highly amused by her family's antics.

"My dad lets them fight over one, and then he whips out his badge and confiscates the other. He's a big drumstick man, if you hadn't figured that out already at Thanksgiving."

As she turned her attention to the movie airing on the television, Edward gazed down upon her and reflected upon the time he, himself, had spent with her family. He could easily see himself becoming part of their family, spending holidays and birthdays with them... with her. While he watched her, he remembered the way he'd catch her eye while she was conversing with another family member, and how she'd smile back at him. He thought of how good it felt to have her sitting in his lap as everyone crowded around the table to sing the traditional birthday song to Charlie as his cake sat before him on the table, fully aflame. He remembered Uncle Gil and Aunt Cheryl sitting beside them, and the wink and smile they'd sent him upon seeing his arm circled around her waist. And he remembered how, even when the others had dispersed back to their own tables, freeing up the chairs around them, she'd remained on his lap while they shared a large square of cake Renee had cut for both of them.

What he remembered most of that day, however, came not from a moment during the party itself, but a conversation Charlie had with him at an empty table long after most of the guests had bid them farewell.

While Alec spun Bella around on the dance floor, her beaming smile coming back to Edward time and time again as the few remaining partygoers finished their evening with conversation over a cup of coffee across the room, Charlie came to sit beside him, and within moments, began to speak as though he could hear the thoughts lingering on Edward's mind.

_"She's a sight for sore eyes, ain't she?" At this, Edward's attention turned from the radiant sight of Bella, barefoot and looking stunningly beautiful in a knee length dress, to Charlie. He smiled, and nodded. _

_"She is."_

_"Always thought I'd have trouble with her...with the boys, I mean," Charlie chuckled to himself, and then shook his head. "Vanessa's a year older than her and it seemed like she changed from this shy little thing to a boy-crazed lunatic overnight when she hit junior high. Every time I talked to my brother in-law, Renee had to talk me down from locking Bella up in a convent...but I never had those kinds of problems with her. Never had different boys calling the house at all hours, or found different boys' names scribbled all over stray pieces of paper with hearts and crap all around it lying around the house. She's picky, that one."_

_As Edward's attention drifted back toward the beautiful woman laughing on the dance floor, her eyes still twinkling back at him every now and again, Charlie watched a girl less than half her age in his memories, dancing with her father. _

_"Sometimes I almost wish she would have been a little more like her cousin. At least then she would have learned to let go when someone didn't love her in return." Charlie waited patiently until Edward turned his head to regard him once again. "I like you, kid, I do. But until I take my last breath, I'll do everything I can to keep my little girl, and her heart, safe. She deserves to have someone love her as devotedly as she does them. If that person isn't you, then let her go so she can find the one who does."_

Charlie's words from that day had been echoing in his mind ever since. Every time Bella was with him, her father's voice would remind him that he needed to make a decision. It was unfair to her to leave the state of their relationship in the indefinable territory between being friends or lovers. From the outside looking in, it wouldn't be hard to mistake them as a legitimate couple, and people who didn't know either of them often did. Waiters and waitresses, store clerks—even Seth at one point; and Edward had long since stopped correcting them.

With her lying beside him, her fingers trailing lightly up and down his arm around her, he had to wonder if he'd stopped correcting outsiders not because he'd been tired of doing so, but rather, because he'd loved her for far longer than he'd been willing to admit; even to just himself.

Her sudden snicker had his eyes darting to the television, just in time to see little Ralphie's daydream of the praise and fame his essay would be awarded. His gaze returning to her, he captured her fingers as they slid over and between his, squeezing them gently for a moment before letting go and turning his palm up.

Edward's heart raced and his breaths quickened as her fingertips rested against his open palm for the briefest moment of hesitation before sliding up toward his fingers, her palm flattening against his as she laced their fingers together.

Bella could feel something changing, the air sparking with the current flowing between them, but where Edward's heart raced in trepidation, hers beat steadily, calmly, as she waited him out. Contrary to what others may have believed he needed, including some of his friends and family, she had no desire to push him into something he might not have been ready for, or possibly have not even wanted.

His eyes closed as her thumb caressed the skin of his hand held within hers, and he tightened his grip ever so slightly. His head bowed, his heart still out of control and breathing still erratic as he swallowed thickly and opened his eyes just as her head turned toward him. His nose grazed her cheek, and his gaze locked on hers as he pressed his trembling lips against the curve of her jaw.

His eyes spoke the words he couldn't bring himself to say in fear of her rejection. He loved her, was in love with her, and she could see it just as clearly as she could see he was afraid. Slowly, she brought her hand up to cradle the side of his face, skimming over his shoulder and the warm skin of his neck upon its ascent.

"It's okay," she whispered, gliding her thumb over the far edge of his cheek as his eyes closed to her once more.

"I'm afraid of losing you."

His confession was met only with the tenderness of her touch upon his face and the gentle pressure of her grip upon his hand. Seconds passed before he opened his eyes to see her gazing steadily at him, and only then did she answer him with words. Only then could she say them and have him be able to see the truth of them in her eyes.

"You won't."

"I might never...get better..."

"I know," she replied as the tip of his nose brushed softly against her cheek.

He felt his heart speed up a fraction more as her gaze remained unwavering, steady and without a hint of uncertainty for her words.

"My job is dangerous..."

"I know," she replied, after his eyes had opened to her once more.

He nudged his nose against the tip of hers, his lips hovering just a breath away from the softness of her own, and he looked down upon her as he unlaced their fingers beneath the blanket. His hand slowly came up to her face, the backs of his fingers caressing the warm, smooth skin of her cheek. Keeping his gaze locked on hers, he spoke the words that he feared could tear them apart in both that very moment, and some moment in the distant future.

"I might go to work one day...and never come back home..."

Her hand still beneath the blanket pressed against his side just beneath his arm. Warmth radiated from her fingers and the palm of her hand, and soaked into his flesh as she answered.

"I know, and I'm still here, Edward."

His thumbs caressed her temples as his eyes closed, the tip of his nose circling the tip of hers lightly as he absorbed the words she'd spoken with such profound sincerity. And then, with the gentlest of touch, his bottom lip tapped the plump curve of hers. A short burst of breath raced from his lungs as she tilted her head just slightly, and knowing this moment would forever change them, he caught her top lip between his own.

As the holiday movie, long forgotten, continued to play in the background, and the snow once again began to fall, Edward, knowing words could never truly convey what he felt for her, showed her instead. With passion he'd never before known, he spoke to her with his body. Every tender brush of his lips upon her skin, and every loving caress of his hands over her body, told her of the longing and desire he'd tried to keep at bay, and conveyed to her the depth of love, adoration, and respect he held for her.

Long into the late hours of night he showered his affections upon her, and Bella reveled in it as she matched his passion with her own. And with every returned caress of his skin and kiss to his lips, Edward's fears began to subside.

In the wee hours of the morning, as the world outside of their warm cocoon returned to the pristine picture of sparkling white coated serenity, by the light of the twinkling Christmas tree, Edward and Bella remained on the couch, tightly wrapped around one another. In the moments before he'd fallen asleep, he'd gazed upon her beautiful sleeping face as his fingers stroked the warm, soft skin of her back, and he smiled—feeling, for once, everything in his life was falling into place.

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**A/N****: Aaahhhhhhhhhh! Finally, right? So was the wait worth it? I think so ^_^ **

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	37. Chapter 36

Disclaimer: Twilight character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. All intellectual properties associated with _Through the Flames_ belong to SparklingTwilight. Plagiarism is theft. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization. Thank you.

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**A/N****: OMG you guys are INCREDIBLE! 222 reviews for 1 chapter! I've NEVER gotten that many reviews for a single chapter ever...EVER! So this here is my thank you for being so flipping amazing. Enjoy the chapter! ^_^**

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Reemergence of the Man Within

In the days following Christmas, an abrupt change in Edward was noticed by nearly all. There was a lightness in his eyes that had been absent for far too long, and an easiness to his frequent smiles that made him appear boyish and youthful. It delighted his mother to see him shine with happiness, but even more so to see Bella with the same glow. While others had remained obscurely ignorant of the love they all knew Edward and Bella shared finally coming to fruition, just happy to see him free of the burdensome strain of his struggles for once—if only temporarily—Esme was nearly bursting at the seams trying to contain her absolute elation.

The way they looked at each other now, with secrets in their smiles as they glanced at each other from across the room, and the way they couldn't be within a foot or two of each other without some form of physical connection, made her eyes water with tears of joy. She couldn't have been happier seeing her son having finally embraced and voiced the feelings she'd known he'd been holding within nearly all along. Bella was a wonderful match for him, and she believed he for her, and Esme hoped only for the best for their future together.

New Year's Eve, unlike many of the days that had passed by in recent months, was met with lifted spirits and high hopes for the coming year. Smiles were plentiful, as were the drinks and the shared laughter, as Bella and Edward congregated with their friends and family at the local watering hole, aptly named Engine House No. 9 for the historic firehouse the bar had been built in.

As the scoreboard clock on the wall counted down the few remaining minutes of the year 2009, Edward sat with Bella in his lap in the now nearly standing room only bar. The atmosphere pulsed with excited energy that could be heard in the cacophony of raised voices and cheap plastic noise makers, but Edward could feel and hear only her as he held her in his arms. In the back corner of the room where they sat, gazing into one another's eyes, the rest of the world disappeared as the final countdown began.

When the crowd yelled fifteen, he smiled at her.

At ten, he cupped the side of her face and stroked her cheek with his thumb.

At seven, he whispered, "I love you."

When the crowd yelled five, he pulled her to his lips.

As the final second was shouted and cheers erupted around them, he both ended, and began the year the best way he could imagine—kissing the woman he loved.

From her seat upon the bar, Alice's eyes fell upon Edward and Bella in the back corner and she gasped, her eyes widening momentarily before an ear shattering squeal erupted from her throat.

"It's about damn time!"

Edward's middle finger quickly shot up in the direction of her voice and she laughed as whistles, cheers, and rounds of applause broke out across the bar. It wasn't until Seth yelled "Get a room!" that Edward lost his composure. Bella could feel the smile on his lips and she broke away laughing breathlessly.

"Happy New Year," he murmured in her ear as she hid her blushing face. He placed a kiss on the corner of her jaw and chuckled as she snickered her return greeting into the crook of his neck.

As they rejoined their circle of family and friends, Edward and Bella were positively beaming with happiness. They smiled and shared a few chaste kisses as plastic glasses of champagne were passed around, and all was good in their world as Marty, the bartender, took to the stage of his bar-top. Even Alice and Jasper stood amicably beside one another, laying the frayed state of their relationship to rest for the night.

"Man, there's a lot of familiar faces in this room tonight," Marty laughed, a glass of champagne in hand as he smiled down at the crowd.

"As many of you know, I'm a man of few words...most of which come about in some form or another of 'what can I get ya to drink', but after having known many of you for more years than I care to count, I've come to think of you as friends. And tonight, I'd like to propose a toast to my friends.

"This year's been hard," he spoke, pausing to nod silently at Edward. In that poignant moment, Carlisle's hand came to a rest on Edward's shoulder and he held Bella tighter as a lump rose into his throat.

"But I'm a firm believer that no hardship we experience in life goes unrewarded. I believe that, even when it doesn't seem as such, the trials and tribulations we go through, bring us to where we're meant to be in life," he smiled and raised his glass, encouraging others to do the same.

"So here's to overcoming life's obstacles and moving on to bigger and better places. May this year be better than the last."

It wasn't long after Marty's toast that people began to slowly disperse and head home. Both Edward and Bella's parents were among the first couples to leave, followed shortly after by Emmett and Rosalie, and a few other parents of young children who would be waking in the early hours of the morning. By a quarter to one, when Marty announced last call, only a few stragglers remained. Content with just having Bella still in his lap, Edward rubbed her leg as she chatted animatedly with Alice, Tanya, and Irina at the table they circled. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Alec smiling down at his cell phone that he was holding beneath the table and Edward quirked a brow.

"Who are you texting at this hour?"

Alec's eyes shot to the side as he snapped his phone shut. "No one."

"Bullshit," Edward laughed. "You're grinning like a fool. Who is it?"

Suddenly, all eyes around the table were on Alec and in his moment of distraction, Bella reached over and snatched the phone.

"Who's Kelly? Oooh...Alec," she guffawed, skimming through a rather flirtatious text she'd sent him. "She's _saucy_!"

"Alright, alright. Give it back." He tried to remain straight-faced, but he ended up chuckling as Bella winked at him.

"So who is she?" she asked, placing the phone in his awaiting hand.

"Just a girl I met at the department Christmas party a few weeks ago."

"Is she a firefighter?"

Alec shook his head, his smile growing. "She's a paramedic."

"Come on, Alec," Alice laughed, throwing a crumpled napkin at him. "Details, man. _Details_."

"Alright, fine. Her name's Kelly Duncan, she's twenty-eight, single mom of a five year old son named Nicholas, and they just moved here from Bellevue at the beginning of November. Happy?"

"Getting there," Bella smirked. "What's she like?"

"She's tall, blonde, greenish blue eyes, chock full of tough attitude and funny as shit. Kind of reminds me of a mix of you and Rosalie," Alec laughed and shook his head as his phone vibrated with another text.

"Why haven't you mentioned her?" Edward asked curiously and Alec shrugged.

"There hasn't been anything to say yet. We went out for coffee after the party and have gone to dinner once since, but that's as far as it's gone."

As he opened his phone to read the new text, he smiled to himself knowing it had gone farther than that, much farther, but that wasn't information he was inclined to share with the table. He'd never meant for things to move as quickly as they had with her, but he couldn't find it in him to regret it. Something in his gut was telling him it hadn't been a mistake, and from her texts, she didn't seem to feel as though it was either.

"Have you met the kid yet?" Jasper asked. "I mean, he's kind of part of a package deal, ya know?"

"No, I haven't met _Nick_, yet," Alec responded pointedly. _The kid_ had a name. "Kelly's cautious about bringing guys she dates into his life. She doesn't want him to get hurt if things don't work out, and I'm cool with that. I wouldn't want him to get hurt either."

"So are you going to go meet her?" Bella asked, pointing at his phone. She glanced at Edward and smiled, reveling in what they'd found in each other, and hoping, maybe, Alec could find it with Kelly. "I think you should."

"You think? It's late," he wavered.

"Seriously. Go for it, man," Edward piped in as Bella relaxed back against him. He kissed her cheek and laced their fingers together atop her stomach.

"Oh, so now that you finally manned up and got the girl you're suddenly an expert?" Alec cracked up, making everyone else at the table laugh. "If I listen to you I'll be toeing dirt for the next five months, but I doubt I'd be as lucky as your ass to have her still waiting for me to grow a pair."

Edward chuckled, unable to refute the jab. "All the more reason for you to have left ten minutes ago."

"Speaking of leaving, are you ready to go home?"

Edward failed to notice the numerous pairs of widened eyes around the table at his casual reference of his house as "home", and the implication it held of him feeling as though it was no longer just his, but _hers _as well. Bella caught it, and it made her heart flutter, but her eyes softened instead of widening in surprise.

"Yeah," she breathed, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

"Okay, an hour ago you two were cute, now you're just turning me into a diabetic," Irina snickered, bringing her drink to her lips. "How you two managed to keep your hands and lips off each other for as long as you did is a mystery that confounds us all."

"Amen!" Tanya and Alice laughed, high five-ing one another.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Bella snorted. "Ladies, and Jasper, enjoy the rest of your evening. Alec," she smiled as she turned and wrapped her arms around him. "Have fun with your _lady friend_."

Strong gusts of wind made the brisk air feel bitingly cold as they hurried their way toward Bella's car. As they made it to the passenger door, Edward wished he could open the door for her like a true gentleman and usher her inside out of the frigid, blustering breeze. Hoisting himself into the passenger side first, and waiting idly by as she folded up his chair and placed it in the backseat, he longed for the day he could make such a small gesture to show her how precious she was to him. The most he could do was start the car and get the heater going, which he did before she'd taken her seat behind the wheel.

"Jeez! I didn't think it'd get so cold tonight." Bella's teeth chattered as she spoke the words. As she gave the car a few moments to warm up, she rubbed her hands together rapidly, using the friction to thaw her frozen fingers.

Edward reached out and took her hands between his own fractionally warmer ones. His large hands engulfed her tiny ones held within, instantly soothing the stinging ache from the cold she'd tried to rub away from them.

"Did you have a good time tonight?" he asked, bringing their hands up to his lips to blow warmth into them with his breath.

"Yeah, I really did."

He returned her smile as he parted their hands and placed a kiss upon one of her palms. "Me too."

"I don't know about you, but I'm ready for a cup of hot cocoa and maybe a movie in bed," Bella grinned, leaning forward to peck his lips before putting the car in gear.

"Sounds like a plan to me."

On their journey home, Bella stuck to the back roads and side streets at Edward's request. The late hour mixed with the icy slush in the roads remaining from the Christmas snow, in combination with the high prevalence of drunk drivers on that particular evening, made the main roads a hazard best avoided. What Edward hadn't thought about when he'd made the suggestion, however, was their new path would take them directly past his old fire station.

"Looks like Jane and the guys are out on a call."

As Bella commented on the absence the trucks in the bay, she glanced at Edward as they passed the building to see if a spark of interest had lit up his features. It hadn't. He'd merely flicked his eyes toward, and back away from the building and nodded.

"Yep."

Later that night, long after Bella had fallen asleep, Edward remained wide awake. He stared at the ceiling above him, mindlessly tracing patterns with the tips of his fingers on the bare skin of Bella's back.

Their night had been an enjoyable one, made immensely more so by the intimacy and passion they'd shared prior to her falling asleep curled into him, but as he lay there, an emptiness began to pulse and ache within him. It had been growing steadily since the moment they'd passed the station house, and with each minute that passed, it continued to slowly consume him.

Unable to lie there any longer, he carefully extracted himself from Bella's hold, placing a kiss against the top of her head before sliding himself into his wheelchair. He'd been trying to ignore the source of his hollowness for as long as he could, but after his father's words on Christmas Eve, spending time with some of the guys from the station at the bar that night, and passing by the empty station, he could ignore it no longer.

He missed the job. He missed the sound of the engine's sirens wailing, the air horn blaring, the diesel engine roaring. He missed the smell of smoky soot and exhaust fumes that lingered in the station bay long after they'd returned from a call. He even missed the smell of the wax he'd used religiously to keep the chrome trim on the trucks shined to a T, and the paint buffed to the vibrant red he'd admired, and favored, his whole life long.

But most of all, he missed the camaraderie... the feeling of being part of something bigger than just himself.

He'd felt brief moments of it over the course of the evening, a joke between members of the brotherhood shared here, a tale of glory from the old days there, but the moments were tainted by how distanced he felt from it all. He'd laughed at some of the stories of practical jokes they'd played on one another over the years, and even felt a flicker of excitement rise within him as Felix and Demitri recounted animatedly for their group one of the fiercest battles with the blaze they'd all come out victoriously against—but for most of it, he'd felt almost as an outsider. Someone who once knew of the adrenaline and pride that coursed through their veins, but had long since forgotten the feel of it.

By the light of the moon shining in through his kitchen window, a handheld radio that had laid dormant for months upon the kitchen counter sat illuminated in the milky white glow. Edward sat for endless minutes staring at it as it almost seemed to call to him, beckoning him to embrace the one thing in his life he'd loved before there'd been anything—or anyone—else to own a part of him.

After wheeling himself closer, Edward's hand shakily reached out to grasp the scanner. His heart beat erratically in his chest as he fingered the dial that would bring it to life... and subsequently, simultaneously bring him back into his past as well as the uncertainty of his future. Closing his eyes in trepidation, he turned the knob just enough to power it up—but not nearly enough to hear anything.

Bella, after rolling over and feeling the bed beside her empty, rose and looked around worriedly. She quickly pulled the t-shirt he'd worn to bed on to cover her nearly nude body, and went in search for him. Her footsteps were almost silent across the hardwood floor, but when she spotted him in the kitchen she took extra care to remain unnoticed. She watched on silently as he warred with himself internally; the struggle he was enduring to find the strength to reconnect with the part of his past that had always made him feel whole, evident upon his face dimly lit by the glowing orange light of the small screen.

Unaware he was being watched, Edward slowly, painfully slowly, continued turning the knob until a faint hum could be heard emanating from the speaker. For moments he listened, his ears straining to hear the empty airwaves over the thudding of his own pulse. A slight crackle came across, sending his heart skipping at the sound of a radio transmit button being depressed, and a burst of breath escaped him as his fingers deftly twisted the knob back into the off position.

"Don't."

The soft word startled him, his head jerking to the side to see Bella slowly approaching him. He briefly wondered how long she'd been awake, and for a moment longer, how long she'd been standing there gazing upon him, but as she lowered herself into his lap, the thought vanished. She gently lifted his hand still clutching the scanner and rested it in her lap. Bringing her arm around his shoulders, she kissed the side of his face and spoke only in a whisper.

"You don't have to let it go. This is who you are, Edward."

His gaze turned to hers and she lightly pecked his lips. His arm around her waist tightened as he laid the portable device in her lap, unsure if he could handle hearing a call go out, or listening to the voices of his station mates.

"Stay with me...?"

"I'm right here, honey. I'll sit here with you all night if that's what you need."

As she said the words, he couldn't imagine a more perfect person to have been blessed to be loved by. With her, he didn't feel the need to hide his weaknesses as he did with so many others, and allowing her in didn't make him feel vulnerable as he once thought it would. She accepted him as he was; broken pieces, flaws and all. Being with her, having her at his side, made him feel as though he could face anything, no matter how small or great—and in that moment, having her with him gave him the strength to turn the scanner back on and try to reconnect with a piece of himself he worried he may have pushed so far away, he'd lost it forever.

As they listened to the subtle hum floating from the speaker, Bella eased his apprehensive anxiety with gentle strokes of her fingers through his hair as she rested her forehead against the side of his neck. When he tensed as it squawked to life, bringing forth the voice of a medic radioing back to dispatch, Bella pressed her lips against his the warm skin of his neck, feeling his pulse race beneath.

"_Medic five to dispatch..."_

"_Dispatch, over."_

"_MVA vic on board. Twenty-two year old male, minor injuries, vitals stable and holding. En route to Tac-Gen. ETA ten minutes."_

"_Copy that, Medic five. Tac-Gen alerted and awaiting arrival."_

"Is Tac-Gen short for Tacoma General Hospital?" Bella asked quietly, continuing the stroking of her fingers through the hair on the back of his head. He nodded silently and closed his eyes, waiting for what he knew would come shortly thereafter. Minutes seemed to pass in eternities of their own as he waited for the tell-tale squawk to bring forth a familiar voice of one of his own—and when it did, he felt something completely unexpected...

_Relief._

"_Engine twelve clearing scene. Heading back to headquarters, dispatch. Over." _

"_Copy that, Engine twelve."_

The tension that had held him rigidly began to dissipate, allowing him to relax into Bella's embrace. They continued to listen for nearly an hour, murmuring softly to one another over the voices and tones the scanner emitted, but as fatigue began to wash over him in heavy waves, he finally turned it off. Three more calls had gone out, but thankfully, his station hadn't been one of the ones hit out. He knew it could change at any moment, but right then, at that very moment, his brothers, and sister, were safe within the sanctuary of the station walls—and that knowledge seemed to be all that was needed to put him at ease.

As he returned to bed with Bella, the connection he'd felt he'd lost and may never find again, began to resurface. In the quiet moments before sleep found him, he realized that what everyone had been telling him all along had been true. He could no more distance himself from the job and the bond he felt with his fellow men than he could from his own body, and in attempting to do so, he'd only succeeded in hurting himself.

Deep down he'd known it all along; he was a firefighter, and wheelchair bound or not... a firefighter at heart he would always remain.

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**A/N****: 2 more chapters to go this week, Tuesday and Thursday, then the Epi next week. We're winding down my lovelies ^_^ **

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**Is it possible we can hit the 200's again? I swear think I shed about 5 lbs from all the dancing around I did. A few more chaps like that and I'll be swimsuit ready before summer is even close to hitting LOL. See you all on Tuesday!**


	38. Chapter 37

Disclaimer: Twilight character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. All intellectual properties associated with _Through the Flames_ belong to SparklingTwilight. Plagiarism is theft. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization. Thank you.

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Seasons of Change

Time passes at its own pace. It's a fact. Regardless of whether or not one wishes it to move faster, slower, or cease movement altogether at their sudden whim or convenient discretion, time passes steadily. The sun and moon rise and fall at an interval predating man and Earth itself, marking time's transgression from the present and into both the past and future simultaneously. In life, the speed of time is the only constant one can rely on, for everything else can, and more importantly, _will_ change—even when one fears nothing will, or can't wait for something, anything at all, to do just that; change.

For Edward, the months leading from winter toward summer would bring more change than he could have ever dreamed possible—some good, some bad, and some just... _bewildering_.

_Winter_

January came and went in a whirlwind of inconsistent weather that seemed to match the ups and downs of Edward's moods in the months leading up to the changing of the year. Some days were brutally cold with angry blusters of wind that cut right through the city. Others were uncharacteristically mild, filled with blue skies and sunshine and even a bit of warmth. It was days like these, the ones that had people tilting their heads toward the sun and smiling, that most closely resembled Edward's spirits during those first few weeks of the new year. He still had his ups and downs, but they no longer made the heads of the people around him spin dizzily. For the most part, he'd become consistent in ways the weather wasn't. Most days, he could even be described as somewhat predictable—at least by Bella. It was in this consistency that she truly began to see the man that he'd been before the fateful night that brought their life paths colliding together.

Each time she found him listening to the transmissions of the happenings going on in the worlds of his fellow firefighters, Bella watched on and encouraged him, most often with nothing more than a gesture of physical affection—a slide of her hand across his shoulders as she passed, or a quick kiss to his lips as she cuddled into him. She laughed with him on nights they'd listen together and his friends and family would send a word or two his way, knowing he'd hear them and was right there with them in spirit.

January had seen many changes in Edward, but it was a day late in the month that the man Bella had seen glimpses of in the past truly came back to life. When she'd come by unexpectedly after getting off work early one afternoon, she found the house empty. On the kitchen counter beside the phone, she'd found the simple note Edward had left behind.

_At the station with Alec. Swing by if you can._

_Edward_

On shaky legs, Bella had darted back out of the house and raced over to the firehouse. The sight that greeted her as she pulled into the parking lot made her laugh through the joyous tears that spilled down her cheeks. In nearly sixty degree weather with the sun shining brightly above, Edward and the guys from his crew were gathered beside one of the trucks that had been pulled out of the bay, laughing and carrying on as they pelted each other with soapy, soaking wet sponges and rags. It was there, in that scene of kinship and playfulness, that she saw Edward in all of his lively glory. The smile that seemed to be permanently etched across his face was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen, and his boisterous laughter was music to her ears. Bella wished he could always feel so lighthearted, but knew it was too much to ask for.

As February rolled in, bringing with it a steady stream of bleak gray skies and teeth chattering temperatures that erased the sporadic warm and sunny days of the month prior, so too was the radiance of Edward's spirits. Having gotten the slightest taste of having part of his prior life return to him, Edward wanted more. He wanted to be able to do more than just hang around the firehouse, help the guys wash the trucks, or share the occasional quick fixed meal with them. He wanted to be a part of all of it again. He wanted to be able to jump on the trucks with them when they got a call instead of hanging back and waiting for them to return. He wanted to remember what it felt like being on scene with the adrenaline coursing through his veins, and he wanted to remember what victory felt like.

Edward wanted it all back, but the possibility of getting there hadn't even yet crested his foreseeable horizon. Each day he spent with his crew fueled his desires to return to the job, and every day following he found himself pushing harder than ever before to achieve it. He could see the progress he was making, but it just wasn't enough, and some days, it felt like it never would be. He'd never before wanted something so bad, only to have it remain just out of his reach for so long. It was tiring, and infuriating, but he continued to drive himself toward his goal. By the end of February, he'd reached his breaking point.

"I don't want your help," Edward growled, snatching his arm away from the aide.

"Edward, relax," Seth urged gently.

"No! I'm so fucking sick of this shit already. I'm sick of that goddamn wheelchair and the harnesses and people doing shit for me all the time. Just quit holding me back and let me try to do this on my own for once."

"No one's holding you back right now but _you_. I understand you're frustrated, Edward," Seth argued, his tone firm. "Everyone that goes through what you are gets frustrated from time to time, but recovery is a process. There are no shortcuts."

The moment Edward made a move to stand on his own, Seth's hand pressed against his chest to hold him down on the bench.

"_Get your goddamn hand off me_."

Their gazes locked, angered defiance against unwavering calm. Seeing they would get nowhere that day, Seth sighed and looked up at the aides standing beside Edward.

"We're done for today. Thanks for your help guys." Focusing his gaze back on Edward as the others stepped away, he shook his head and withdrew his restraining hand.

"There's a fine line between pushing yourself and hurting yourself, and right now, with the state of mind you're in, you're crossing it," Seth said, his voice stern and gaze steady. "I get it, man. You're pissed off and tired of how long this is taking, but what you're bullheadedly trying to do will only _set you back_. If you push yourself too far, too fast, you'll do nothing more than slow yourself down, ya got me?"

"Fuck this, and fuck _you_," Edward spat, all but throwing himself into his wheelchair. Seth had barely had time to find the words to calm him when Edward spoke the words he dreaded hearing a patient ever say.

"I quit."

Without a second glance behind him, Edward wheeled himself away angrily. Caught between wanting to chase after him, and knowing it was best to give him some time, Seth growled and kicked the leg of the bench. Cursing beneath his breath, he stormed into his office and nearly slammed the door shut before snatching up the handle of the phone and dialing Bella's number, both to warn her of Edward's current mood, and to beg her to convince him to return.

"What happened? What's wrong?" Carlisle asked, confused and worried as Edward grabbed his coat with a scowl and tossed it on with harsh movements.

"Nothing. Let's go." Carlisle stood as he picked up his own coat, bewildered as Edward wheeled himself away hastily and hurriedly followed in his wake.

After Edward had gotten himself situated in the truck, Carlisle stowed the wheelchair in the back and made his way to the driver's side. Just as he was getting in, Edward rammed his fist into the dashboard. Startled, Carlisle's eyes darted toward his son and his gaze lingered as he slowly, absentmindedly, shut the door. The keys remained in his hand as he watched Edward's jaw muscles bulge as he clenched his teeth and glared out of the windshield.

"Want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Edward..."

"I said I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay." Carlisle held his hands up in surrender for a moment before putting the key in the ignition and starting up the truck.

"Well if you do...I'm not saying now, but whenever...I'm here, son."

The offer was left hanging between them, acknowledged by nothing more than a halfhearted nod of Edward's head as he turned his gaze out of the passenger side window. He really didn't want to talk about it, and didn't see the point in talking about it, either. Talking never helped. He could air out his frustrations from sunup to sundown, but it never alleviated what was ailing him.

He was so angry, and the anger had nowhere to go. Pent up inside of him and festering, turning him toxic from the inside out. For months he'd been watching some of the other patients in the center make great strides toward their full recoveries, silently envying them every step of the way. He'd seen some of the others arrive in wheelchairs, and leave upon their own feet just weeks later. _Weeks_ while he'd been working toward the very same thing for months on end with nowhere near the same results as the others.

Fleeting envy had turned to bitter jealousy that blazed through his veins. He was sick and tired of being told to remain patient, that everyone's injuries were as different as their journeys through the recovery process. He didn't want to hear how anything was possible as long as he kept trying. He just wanted it to _happen_ already. He wanted to be out of his wheelchair; wanted nothing more than to set it on fire and watch it burn, taking the memory of this whole experience with it as it turned to ash, but the very same person he was relying on helping him get out of it, was the one holding him down in it. One person was keeping him from healing faster and returning to the life he'd had before this all started—the life he desperately wanted to be living.

Edward's thoughts spun in a whirlwind of complete chaos as they pulled in his driveway, and it was at that moment, as if he wasn't shattering and falling apart enough as it was, that his father's fire pager went off. The rapid high pitched chirps initiating the series of tones that followed caused Edward's breath to seize in his chest, his entire body frozen rigid as stone against every emotion battering him from within to be set free. At the sound of the dispatcher's voice, the tenuous grasp Edward held on his emotions unraveled.

A sob ripped from his chest and a tear careened down the side of his face as the enormity of everything crashed down upon him. Not for the first time since he'd awoken from his coma, he wished he hadn't. Death would have been easier than what his life had become—nothing but an unending battle to achieve what no one could give him. His recovery was like everything else in his life had ever been; he had to fight for it, _earn_ it the way his brothers had never had to earn a goddamn thing in their lives—with hard work.

"It's not fucking fair!" His fist once again slammed into the dashboard as Emmett's voice came across the device, responding to the dispatcher. Hearing his brother live out the only life he'd ever wanted and had been stripped of was too much to handle. "What the fuck did I ever do to deserve this shit!"

"Edward...son, stop." Carlisle reached over the console and grabbed a hold of his son, wrapping his arms around him as best he could. "Breathe, Edward...just breathe."

Holding his son as he broke down in a way Carlisle had never before witnessed, he cried tears of his own for him. "Sometimes things just happen in life. It has nothing to do with deserving it. If it did, this wouldn't have happened because you're the _last_ person who'd deserve what you're going through. Please believe me, son."

Reaching blindly with one arm, Carlisle grabbed a hold of his pager clipped to the visor as it crackled to life once more. With a twist of his fingers upon a knob, it silenced and he dropped it, leaving it tumble down onto the floor by his feet as he brought his arm back around his son.

"Go," Edward croaked, trying to pull away from his father's hold. "It's a general alarm."

"You're more important. I need to be here more than they need me there."

Bella had been in the middle of lunch with a few co-workers when she'd gotten the call from Seth. Anxiety shot through her at seeing the physical rehabilitation center's number on the screen, and she excused herself as politely, and quickly, as she could. Of all the possible reasons for Seth to be calling her when he should have been working with Edward, hearing that Edward had quit had _not_ been one of them. She'd discretely returned to the luncheon, but for the remainder of it her mind was everywhere but focused on the people accompanying her.

"Jay?" Bella called softly with a gentle rap of her knuckles against the frame of his door. He looked up from the stack of papers upon his desk he was sifting through and removed his glasses with a smile as she entered the room. "Would you mind if I cut out early today?"

"Excited to get everything packed up for the big move, are you?"

Bella forced a smile and nodded, not wishing to discuss the real reason she wanted to leave early. Be it as it may that his assumption was off by a mile, she wasn't entirely dishonest in her reply. Up until an hour before, she had been incredibly excited to be officially moving in with Edward.

"A little, yeah."

"There's not much going on here at the moment, so I see no problem with you getting an early start on your four day weekend."

"Thank you, Jay," she sighed in relief.

The journey from her desk to Edward's front door took less than a half an hour, but it felt like forever after managing to catch every red light possible and getting stuck behind every slow driver out on the roads that afternoon. Parking beside Carlisle's truck in the driveway, she was relieved to find that his father had stayed with him instead of just dropping him off as he usually did. Inside, she quickly dropped her purse on the entry way table and shed her coat, tossing it over the back of a kitchen chair as she made her way toward the den where she'd known she'd find him.

Wordlessly she nodded a greeting at Carlisle and made her way to stand behind Edward, wrapping her arms around his neck. With her head tucked beside his, she swayed him gently from side to side, pressing kisses to the side of his face. His eyes closed as warmth enveloped him along with the faint fragrance of her delicate perfume. She embodied the definition of comfort to him.

"It'll be okay, honey...everything will be okay," she whispered. She pressed more kisses upon the corner of his jaw and his hands came up to grip her arms, his thumbs caressing her soft skin as he nodded minutely.

From his spot on the couch, Carlisle watched the couple's quiet interaction with a heavy heart. He could remember having a fleeting moment of holding his son's life more valuable than that of any other's, but without her, he couldn't imagine how Edward would have ever made it this far. Never before had he been more grateful for someone who had entered one of his children's lives than he was for her, despite the tragedy that had brought them together. As he stood from the couch, feeling it necessary to grant them their privacy, Bella noticed and straightened from her hunched over stance. Edward's hands glided down her arms as she stood, and upon reaching her hands, he laced their fingers together.

"I'll leave you two some time alone." He gripped Edward's shoulder and patted it once before wrapping his arm around Bella and kissing her temple.

"We'd all be lost without you," he said appreciatively as he stepped away. "I'll see myself out. Call if either of you need anything."

Shortly after Carlisle's truck was heard pulling away from the house, Edward began wheeling himself toward the couch, only to have Bella grab a hold of the handles of his wheelchair and halt him.

"How about we go out and get some fresh air?" He shrugged as she pressed her lips at the corner of his jaw. "We could go to the park, or take a stroll down by the waterfront or something."

"I guess."

She could hear in his voice that he wasn't all too keen on going anywhere, but sitting around the house with nothing to distract him from his thoughts had proven time and time again to make matters worse. A little fresh air would do them both more good than cooping themselves up indoors.

Ruston Way Park lined part of the shore of Commencement Bay and consisted of a two mile scenic waterfront walkway that Bella had spent many a summer's evening strolling with her mother in her youth. Her mother had especially loved it in the fall for the beauty of the turning foliage that the views provided, but Bella, herself, had always loved the remarkable view of Mt. Rainier it provided at any time of the year. Her sudden chuckle as they slowly made their way down the path grabbed Edward's attention away from his plaguing thoughts instantly. She smiled down at him as his questioning gaze caught her eye.

"When I was a kid, I use to dream of one day climbing Mt. Rainier." Her smile remained softly stretched across her lips as she looked back at the hulking giant of earth across the bay. "I always fantasized about what it would be like to stand at the very top of its peaks and look down on the entire world below."

"Aren't you afraid of heights?"

His question made her laugh as she nodded. "Deathly. Never stopped me from wanting to try though. What about you? Was there anything you wanted to do as a kid that you never got around to doing?"

Edward thought for a moment as they strolled along and then shrugged, unable to come up with anything as adventurous as climbing a mountain.

"Not really. The only things I ever wanted to do as a kid, I did..." he trailed off, shaking his head. "Never planned on it all ending like this though."

Bella transferred Tango's leash to her opposite hand, holding both dogs' leashes with one hand so she could reach out and smooth a hand over the back of his head. "Nothing's over yet, Edward. Not until you say it is...so are you? Seth told me you quit today. Is that what you really want?"

"At the time, yes...now? I don't know," he sighed, slowing as they approached a bench. His arms were getting tired, and if they kept going to the end, he wouldn't have the energy to make it back to the car on his own. Bella took his cue and lowered herself onto the bench and slid the loops of the leashes over her wrist to free her hands. She reached out and took a hold of his hands, her gaze focused on his fingers as she gently fiddled with them.

"I can accept you quitting, but only if you can," she said quietly, and rose her gaze to meet his. "I want you to be happy, Edward. Whether that means making peace with yourself as you are and making a new life for yourself, or continuing to fight for what you used to be makes no difference to me because as long as you're happy, I'm happy. And that's all I really want. I just want to be happy _with_ you."

"What if I don't really want to quit?" Edward asked, lowering his gaze to their hands. "I hate dragging you through all my moody bullshit all the time, and I don't want it to become the reason I lose you."

"I'm not going anywhere, Edward," she said reassuringly. "But if you don't really want to quit, can I ask you to do something for me?"

He raised his eyes to hers and nodded, willing to give her anything she asked for after all she'd done, and continued to do, for him.

"Anything."

"Will you please consider joining the support group Seth's been pushing for so long? I'll even go with you if you want."

"Bella..."

"Please? Or if not that, at least consider talking to Aaron when things start to become too much to handle," she pleaded at his groan. "He's such a nice guy and he's tried to reach out to you and be there for you so many times when we've run into him at the center. All I'm asking is that you try. If it doesn't help, then it doesn't help. Just...will you please give it a chance? I can't do this all on my own anymore, honey."

He sighed miserably as he looked deep into her eyes and saw the truth within them. She couldn't do it alone anymore, and he couldn't keep asking her to. Especially not when he could admit to himself that he couldn't do it on his own anymore either.

"Okay," he conceded, nodding once. "I promise, Bella. I'll give it a shot."

That very night, after returning home from watching the sun set over the bay, Edward dug through his wallet to find the scrap of paper Aaron had had Seth give him. While Bella cooked dinner, he spent over an hour on the phone with him, and though he'd initially thought he'd end the call wishing he'd never made it, in the end, he realized just how wrong he'd been.

Aaron didn't laugh or try to make a joke out of the pained words he had spoken, and he didn't try to insinuate that Edward was making a mountain of a mole hill. He understood, empathized, and shared his own tales of therapy related emotional turmoil to show that he wasn't alone in his struggles. Everyone had their good days and bad days, some worse or better than others. The only thing that mattered at the end of the day was if he was willing to keep going, and if not, whether or not he could live with knowing he'd given up. Edward couldn't live with that indefinitely. He'd known that much before having even spoken to Aaron, and it was because of that knowledge that the very next morning, with Bella by his side, he wheeled himself back into the PT center.

"I thought you said you quit," Seth remarked, his arms crossed over his chest but a smile tugging at his lips.

"I lied." Edward wheeled himself right over to the stretching table and transferred himself onto it with ease.

"And Seth?" He looked at him remorsefully. "Yesterday was..."

"Just that—yesterday." Seth grinned, waving it off. "Today's a new day."

_Spring_

March greeted the residents of Tacoma with a series of hellacious thunderstorms upon its arrival. Cracks of thunder shook the city as lightning streaked across the angry skies, causing frequent power outages with the tangling of electricity lines in fallen trees that had been battered and beaten by the wind and fierce rain. Electricians worked around the clock to restore power, as did the fire and police departments responding to reports of live wires in roads, sparking transformers, and even downed trees upon houses or across residential streets, just to keep the city residents at a safe distance from the danger the obstacles presented until the next available utility company truck could arrive.

The storms eventually passed and warmth and sunshine moved in, thawing the earth from its previously near frozen state, but chaos continued to ensue beneath Edward and Bella's roof. For once, however, it was a good kind of chaos. Their days were filled with long hours at work and vigorous therapy sessions, and their nights were filled with dinners spent with various family members and friends that stopped by to help them hastily plan an upcoming event for someone they both loved.

March 15th marked Alec's thirtieth birthday, and for it, Edward and Bella were planning on hosting a party for upwards of around one hundred people. There was plenty to do, and little time for them to get it done with their combined schedules, but pulling it together served two purposes—and served them well. Not only would it show their friend their gratitude for all he'd done for them, but it also kept Edward's mind preoccupied and far away from his mental struggles with his recovery. Everything was once again starting to look up, but the night before the party, while sitting at a table with Alice and putting together party favors for the guests, Edward was hit by something that took him even further away from his own problems, and light years away from the celebratory mood around him. After nearly an hour of idle chat with one of his dearest friends, and sister in-law, one simple question led to an outburst that blindsided him completely.

"Did Jasper tell you he got hired on with Dispatch?" he asked, smoothing the sticker he'd just applied to a bottle of red wine. It contained Alec's picture designed to look like a vineyard label of a vintage wine.

"No," Alice sighed as she took the bottle from him and began tying and curling decorative ribbons around its neck.

"Huh...well he's only been there a few weeks, but he seems to..."

"Edward, we're filing for divorce," she blurted suddenly.

The bottle he'd held in his hands slipped and fell to the table, half affixed sticker and all as his eyes shot up in her direction. He'd barely caught it from rolling off the table when she slapped a hand over her mouth and began rambling quickly.

"I'm sorry...god, I'm so sorry. We just...Jasper and I decided to wait until after the party had passed and things had calmed down to say anything about it, but there I go blurting it out like an idiot because I can't even answer a few stupid questions without pointing out the obvious that we don't really talk to each other about _anything_ anymore. Jesus, Edward. Say _something_, please."

"We...what do you mean _we_?" he questioned, having barely caught a word of what she'd just spoken so hurriedly, still stuck on her first statement involving the word _divorce_. "Is this because I told you to drop him on his ass? Because I didn't mean it like _that_, Peanut. I just meant let him flounder on his own for a bit until something knocked some sense into him."

"It's, um...it's mutual, Edward. We both want out...irreconcilable differences is what our lawyers are filing it as..." she trailed off, twirling a strip of ribbon around her finger. "I'm not even the one who brought it up; he did...not long after New Year's Eve."

"Well, _shit_," Edward muttered, sinking back into his chair. "I don't...damn, Alleycat, I don't even know what to say to that."

"There's really nothing to say," she shrugged, dropping the strip of ribbon onto the table as she looked up at him. "Please don't tell your parents, or anyone else, yet. We really wanted to keep it under wraps so it wouldn't ruin tomorrow for anyone. I really didn't mean to let it slip like that. I'm so sorry, Edward."

"It's okay, Alice." Edward shook it off and righted himself in his seat before reaching for a new bottle. Peeling off a new sticker, he glanced up at her and smiled as best he could. "Stop apologizing. It's only meyou slipped to, so it's no big deal. Forever friends no matter what, right?"

"Yeah, forever friends," she smiled sadly back. It _was_ a big deal, and she knew it, but no matter how much she wished things could be different, there was nothing she could do to change it. She and Jasper had just grown too far apart to rekindle what they'd once shared, and their months apart had only allowed them to drift further away from each other. Whether it was that night, or sometime within the next few weeks, Edward would have heard the news from either her or Jasper eventually, but till, she wished she hadn't blurted it out as she had, or _when_ she had.

As he'd promised, Edward said nil a word about the impending divorce within his family to anyone, and if his slightly somber mood was noticed the following day at the party, it went by unacknowledged. He smiled on cue, laughed when it was expected, but the sadness of knowing what Alice and Jasper had once shared had withered and faded away lingered beneath the surface. A week later they broke their decision to the family over dinner. Ironically enough, it was the very same night Alec came home with the news that his own divorce had officially been finalized.

March slowly passed into April, with many of the days feeling much the same as the day before. Rocked by his brother and sister in-law's marriage falling apart, Edward spent most of his time throwing all of his energy into his physical therapy and spending time with his family. In the mornings, he'd taken to caring for Ian to save Emmett and Rosalie the money they'd been spending on daycare during the hours they both had to be at work and school, respectively. It was infrequent that he ever found himself alone with Ian during those few hours between Rosalie dropping him off and someone else taking over while he was in his therapy sessions, but he didn't take offense to the extra set of eyes and hands. He felt better knowing there was someone close by in case he needed them, especially now that, at almost seven months old, Ian was starting to crawl like a speed demon all over the place.

In the evenings, it was fairly often that Rosalie and Emmett would join them for dinner, and it was those nights that Edward enjoyed the most. Watching Bella coddle and coo at his nephew, laugh while playing with him, and hum while rocking him to sleep gave him a crystal clear view of how wonderful a mother she'd be one day. He wanted to have that with her—fiercely, and it showed enough that his brothers, Alec, and even Alice and Rose had begun teasing him as to when he planned on asking her to marry him. Little did they know, their hinting shallowly passed off as comments made in jest were entirely unnecessary.

The second Sunday of April, Edward had taken her parents to breakfast under the guise of going to the shooting range with Charlie, and during their meal, politely requested their daughter's hand in marriage. Renee had been over the moon with excitement. Charlie on the other hand, actually _did_ take Edward to the shooting range, and only after spending two straight hours making Edward age a decade from anxiety did he laugh and clap him on the shoulder while asking him when the big day was. For a split second, Edward was tempted to shoot him in the foot and play it off as a complete accident, but he couldn't because the man had just given him his blessing to marry his daughter.

That very night, with the house all to themselves, Edward and Bella laid in the darkened den, the only light illuminating the room coming from the television. Many a Sunday night had been spent in their exact position; stretched along the couch beneath a blanket, Bella's back to Edward's chest, one of his arms beneath her head and the other curled over her side. The only thing that differentiated this Sunday night from any other, was the ring tucked away in the pocket of his sleep shorts.

As discretely as possible, Edward pulled his hand away from the slow trails his fingers had been making up and down the length of her arm, from her fingers to just above her elbow and back again. With the ring encircling his pinky, he returned to his tender caressing, making two more passes before slowing at her fingertips and slipping the ring over the fourth finger of her left hand silently. He felt it the moment her breath seized in her chest and his gaze turned toward her just in time to see her eyes widen. A smile crossed his face as her hand turned within his and her thumb crossed over the three diamonds resting atop the ring. Her gaze finally turned toward him and his nose skimmed featherlike across the soft flesh of her cheek.

"Will you?"

"Seriously?" she breathed, smiling brilliantly.

"Entirely," he grinned, bumping the tip of his nose against hers as he laced their fingers together.

Edward could clearly remember Bella being as calm as a windless day, impossibly subdued on the night they'd first kissed, first made love, and the day he'd asked her to move in with him. Not one of those momentous occasions had prepared him for the ear shattering squeal of delight that burst forth from her windpipe as she flipped over and clung to him while pressing kisses against his lips, cheeks, chin, and even his nose as he laughed.

"Should I take that as a yes, then?"

"Absolutely," she beamed, followed shortly by a gasp as she jumped off the couch, nearly tripping herself with the blanket as she ran from the room, her voice trailing behind her. "Oh my gosh! I _have_ to call Tanya and Irina, and Alice, and Rosalie!"

"Babe, they're probably all sleeping already!" he called after her, still laughing to himself as he watched her slide across the kitchen floor in her socks.

The following day, Edward found himself standing with each of his arms around an aide on either side of him supporting some of his weight, the edge of a padded therapy table pressing lightly against the backs of his thighs, and sporting an ear to ear grin. His mood was unshakable as Seth stood before him, using one hand against his chest to right him each time he began to lose his balance and tip forward.

"How are the legs feeling, lover boy?" Seth asked, bemused by the inerasable grin Edward had had stretched across his face for the last hour.

"Great," he grinned impossibly wider.

"Not too shaky?"

"Nah uh," Edward shook his head.

"Balance, Edward," Seth laughed as he pushed against his chest gently to right him again. "Get your head out of the clouds and focus on your balance."

"Doing good, man. Now take a step forward."

"What?" Edward gaped, his grin falling as his left knee buckled and his expression took on one of surprise and confusion.

"Take a step forward. We gotta get you practicing for the real thing. No better time than the present, don't you think?" Seth laughed again, entirely too amused by his mood that day. If it hadn't been for the nearly eleven p.m. phone call he'd received from an overly excited Bella, he might have thought Edward had been under the influence.

"Ah, ah, balance, Edward," Seth corrected, pushing against his chest once more. "Eyes on me, not the floor unless you plan on becoming closely acquainted with it within the next few minutes."

Edward had been practicing his balance while in the center's pool with Seth and either Emmett, his father, or Bella, but being on his own two feet on dry land wasn't anywhere near comparable to being in the water. It took twice as much effort out of the water than in it, and his ability to maintain his balance continuously was tenuous at best.

"Jimmy and Sean got ya, and we're not gonna let ya fall, so give it a go. Right leg first since it's your stronger one, then bring your left beside it."

Edward nodded, feeling both aides at his sides secure their grips upon his hands, their opposite arms crossing behind his back for support. Just as it was on the treadmill when he was strapped into the harness, when he bent his right leg, the motion was jerky and erratic, sloppy and difficult to control. Gritting his teeth as the toe of his sneaker caught on the floor, he leaned slightly to the left and tried to kick his foot out. It hit the floor a few inches in front of him with an echoing slap as his breath rushed from his lungs.

"Awesome," Seth encouraged, holding his hand out ready to push Edward back a little, but he righted himself on his own. "Straighten your foot out before stepping with your left."

Edward did as he was instructed and pulled in another breath, his face twisting from the effort he was exuding as he tried to bend and bring his left leg forward. He couldn't. He strained and gave it all he had trying to lift it, but all he could get it to do was bend slightly with the same jerking motions, only with greater intensity. The movement was quickly throwing him off balance, and he feared his full weight would cause the three of them to all fall.

"I'm going to use my foot to push yours forward," Sean warned before Edward felt his leg move forward with stunted motion.

Seth's gaze quickly flitted across the floor before finding who he was looking for and calling him over. Edward watched as Alec came jogging up to them.

"What's up?"

"Need a hand. I need you to stand behind me and if Edward starts to tip forward, press your palm against the center of his chest and push gently until he's straight up again."

"No prob," Alec nodded as Seth knelt down to the floor.

"Okay, Edward. Get your bearings and start with your right again. I'm going to help you step with the left."

With the same outcome the following two steps forward and three back to the table, Seth moving his left leg for him each time only after making him try on his own first, Edward felt something he hadn't felt in quite some time as they lowered him to sit on the padded table—a sense of accomplishment. Leaving the center that day, after the promises spring had brought, he couldn't wait to see what summer held in store for him.

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**A/N****: One more and then the Epi! OMG I'm wigging out over here LOL. See ya'll Thursday! **


	39. Chapter 38

Disclaimer: Twilight character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. All intellectual properties associated with _Through the Flames_ belong to SparklingTwilight. Plagiarism is theft. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization. Thank you.

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The Glory of Summer

In life, everything is a process. Life itself, is just that—a process; it starts with birth, ends with death, but in between the beginning and end, that's where life is truly _lived_. Through growth and change, joy and sorrow, miracles and misfortunes... life is experienced, and through it all, beauty can be found. One never even has to look far to find it, as it exists in all seasons of life.

In the autumn, it can be found in the blazing colors of the leaves on the trees, the vividness of their short lived, valiant last stance in life before falling to the earth and becoming one with it. In the winter, it can be found in the evergreens, standing strong and unwavering against the harshness of the elements. In the spring, it can be found in the rebirth of mother nature when all things begin to emerge from dormant slumber and grace the landscape once again with vibrant color, but it's summer where beauty can be found in any direction one looks. It's the season where everything in eye view is positively bursting with life, and for Esme, it only took one glance at her son to know that he'd finally reached the 'summer' of his life.

Trimming the last withered, lifeless leaf from a branch, Esme gently laid her garden shears down and stepped back to admire the rosebush she'd spent all winter and spring nurturing back to health. It had been such a sad looking thing when her neighbor had plucked it from his landscape, griping that he'd toldhis wife it had been too late in the year to put it in the ground, that it needed time to extend its roots before the first frost hit. Esme's neighbor had been just a step away from throwing it in the trash when she politely stopped him and asked if he wouldn't mind letting her have it instead with hopes that, with just a little love and care, it might blossom one day again. Carlisle had said the same thing that night that their neighbor had said: "_It's ruined, Es. Just throw it away and be done with it._"

Esme smiled to herself now as she leaned in to smell the lovely fragrance of just one of the bush's many large, beautiful pink and lavender blossoms. She may have seen the plant through the winter of its life, but looking up at the sound of Bella's laughter, she knew who had seen her son through the winter of his own. She'd stood by him through the darkest and most desolate of his days, and through compassion and kindness, she'd brought him through the storms of spring and into the bright sunshine of summer. To one woman, Esme felt she owed everything.

"Hole's dug," Carlisle said as he came to stand beside her, wiping his brow on the sleeve of his t-shirt. Esme had once had plans to plant it just beneath her living room window, giving it a home where it could continue to grow and blossom while bringing its delicate aroma into the house on breezy days. As it slowly came back to life under her tender care, however, she couldn't help but think it deserved a home with a couple who were just as remarkably strong and resilient as it was.

"Look at him go," Esme smiled, looking over at Edward with his arms swung over Emmett and Jasper's shoulders, taking slow steps across the yard. Beside them, Ian toddled toward his aunts, his hands gripping Rosalie's fingers tightly as she followed behind.

"Which one?" Carlisle laughed, getting jabbed in the side softly by Esme as he picked up the potted bush from the patio table.

"Both of them, really," she snickered, following behind him. "I give it another month before little one has us all running full sprint after him."

"Maybe we should get them a leash for him," Carlisle commented jokingly as he lowered the bush into the ground and began covering its roots with soil. "Lord knows Emmett needed one from the day he started walking until...well, hell, sometimes it could still come in handy for him."

For an early Sunday afternoon at the beginning of June, it was incredibly warm. So warm, in fact, that even the adults had been taking turns wading through, and sitting in, the small inflatable pool Bella and Edward had purchased for Ian. Clouds, reminiscent of puffs of pure white cotton, sparsely dotted the sky, rarely providing moments of slight shade from the bright sunshine as they slowly floated across a canvas of cheerful blue.

It was the first afternoon they'd all found their schedules open, with no work to have to go to, appointments to make appearances at, obligations to tend to, or errands to run, and they all jumped at the opportunity awarded them to spend a day of fun and relaxation together. Seated back in his wheelchair, Edward looked around him and smiled to himself, unable to remember the last time they'd come together as a family for no other reason that just that; to be with each other. Before his nearly fatal accident, the only reason they'd ever found themselves united was for family functions they were obligated to at least make an appearance at—and even then they rarely managed to make it through the event without at least one heated argument. It was a nice change of pace for them, and him.

Alice and Jasper had gone through with their decision to divorce, and it had been finalized quickly and smoothly—the couple having few assets requiring division. The first month after they'd announced their decision had been the hardest, but in the months that followed, everyone could see that they'd made the right decision. The pair had been much more successful at mending their relationship on a friendship level than they'd been at repairing their marriage. They both seemed happier, more content at least, with how things turned out, and for that, Edward, and the rest of the family, were grateful.

"Pizza!" Alec's voice hollered out of the back door.

"It's about time," Emmett huffed as he stood from the grass and hoisted Ian up in his arms. "What'd he go to Italy for it?"

"You're such a pig, Emmett," Alice scoffed. "You just ate a huge bowl of leftover spaghetti an hour ago."

"Listen here, pipsqueak." Emmett hip checked her. "I'm a growing boy, and growing boys need to eat."

"Knock it off, both of you."

Edward shook his head and turned to look at Bella as she walked toward him, snickering at the pair of them being scolded simultaneously by Carlisle and Esme. She leaned down and met his awaiting lips in a brief kiss.

'_Yeah_,' he thought to himself as she walked beside him with her fingers weaving through the back of his hair, '_everything's just as it should be.'_

"Let's go, Edward. Three more steps. You can do it, man."

Edward hissed out a breath between his teeth, tightening his grip on the handles of the gliding support bar affixed to the parallel bars. Seth tugged gently on it as he spoke, urging him forward. His back hurt from being hunched over as he was, and his elbows burned from the pressure of much of his weight being braced by his forearms upon the bar's pads, but he didn't complain. His eyes squeezed shut tightly, his face contorted into a mask of strain with the effort he was putting forth to drag his left leg forward. With agonizingly slow progression, it inched forward, dragging jerkily until it met his right.

"Need a break?" Seth asked, giving him a moment to catch his breath.

"No." Edward shook his head and swallowed, his throat dry. "Keep going."

"You got it. Two more steps, then we'll take a breather."

Edward longed for the day to come when his balance was reliable enough to allow him to just be able to hold onto the rails, but keeping his upper body from tipping forward while standing remained an obstacle he had yet to overcome. In time, though, he repeatedly told himself. Everything takes time.

He'd made great strides in both his recovery and his ability to mentally cope with the stresses involved with it. Aaron, in the short months since he'd began befriending him, had much to do with the latter. Through his support, and the support of the others in their group, Edward no longer felt the intense bottoming out he'd struggled with for so long at the end of particularly bad days. There still remained a rise and fall in his spirits from time to time, but as he'd learned through the others, it was to be expected. He'd also learned that how long it took to bounce back from the lows, was largely dependent upon the attitude he chose to confront the issue with.

"One more, Edward. We're almost there. You're doing incredible."

Edward just nodded, straightening his footing on the right before focusing on bringing his left forward. '_One more...just one more_,' he told himself, drawing in a deep breath. He twisted his hips, the motion helping him to drag his left leg forward. The toe of his sneaker scraped along the rubber runner between the bars, thumping and thudding along as his leg spastically pulled it forward.

"Good job, man. Damn good job," Seth praised, clapping Edward once on the shoulder as he fought to catch his breath. "Let's get you back in your chair and grab some water."

Edward followed behind Seth to where he'd left his bag when he'd come in, and bent to retrieve his water bottle tucked away in the side pocket. Tipping it upward once, he drained nearly half of it, absolutely parched.

"How are you doing on the balance ball at home?"

Edward chuckled ruefully under his breath as he shook his head, bending forward to replace his water bottle and withdraw a hand towel from his bag.

"Bit it hard last night," he replied, swiping away at the sweat on his face and neck. "Bella turned to grab the phone and one second I was doing fine, the next I was sprawled out on the floor."

"Hurt anything?" Seth asked, genuinely concerned.

"Nah," Edward laughed. "Just bruised my ego a little."

"Have you guys officially set a date yet?" Seth grinned, happy for the couple. "Still planning on holding it at the firehouse?"

"Uh, yeah...July 12th of next year...she chose it," Edward answered, his face scrunching up a bit. "It's the second anniversary of..."

"The fire at her old place?"

"Yeah." Edward nodded. "She said she wanted something better to remember that day by...which I guess I can see. I don't know—it doesn't really bother me, but whatever. And yeah, we're still having it at the firehouse. She doesn't want anything over the top or extravagant, regardless of how much both of our mothers are rallying for just that...over the top."

Seth laughed heartily. "Sounds about right for Bella. At least it's probably a saving grace for you."

"Honestly?" Edward mused, tossing his towel onto his bag. "I really don't have an opinion on it either way. I just want her to be happy, so if she wanted to have the ceremony in a cathedral and stuff me in a penguin suit, I would have done it. But, she wants it at the firehouse so guys working have a chance to be there, and she wants me and the groomsmen in our full dress uniforms, so that's what she's getting.

"It's her day, ya know?" Edward shrugged. "I mean, it's _our _day, but we all know it's all about the bride. I'm just praying I'll be able to actually _stand_ up there with her and get dance or two in at the reception."

Seth smiled gently and gripped his shoulder. "Next year is still a ways away, man, and you're well on your way to getting there."

The end of June brought with it Edward's thirtieth birthday. At his request, the fanfare was kept to a minimum. A few friends gathered with his family at a fancy restaurant and celebrated the occasion over a delicious meal and a few bottles of decent champagne. Although he'd denied wishing to be given gifts, a few had made their way in his direction before the night came to an end. Charlie had bought him his own handgun for their biweekly Saturday morning trips to the shooting range, complete with a lockable carrying case and enough ammunition to see him through to the following year. His parents and brothers, as well as Rosalie and Alice, had all gone in together to purchase him the new stainless steel outdoor grill he'd been seen eyeing on occasion in the local hardware store—they'd taken a picture of it in-store and inserted it into a card. He hadn't even been aware it had been in the garage for nearly a week, already fully assembled and ready to use. From his friends, he'd received a few odds and ends, some new t-shirts and such with firefighter insignia displayed on the backs.

Overall, the gifts were incredibly generous and far more than he'd expected from any of them, but it was Bella's gift to him at the dinner table that had overshadowed them all. Nestled in white satin fabric within a velvety black box, she'd given him the perfect gift; his future wedding ring. With it's sleek white gold band and subtle, tiny three stone design, it complimented her engagement ring perfectly. It was exactly what he'd been looking for; nothing too pricey or flashy, and her personal touch of an inscription on the inside of the band made it all the more meaningful.

_My life. My love._

_July_

"We are mortal beings. We come into this world and, at the time of the Lord's will, we return to His Kingdom, but it is what we do with the time we are granted upon this Earth which holds more significance than the time we are gifted."

Bella's hand found its way into Edward's as he discretely swiped the pad of his opposite thumb across his eye. Sitting in the pew beside her, his empty wheelchair tucked safely against the wall and out of the way of his fellow mourners, Edward listened to the beginning of a eulogy for one of their retired Chief's with a heavy heart. Beside him, his father and station brothers sat in matching pressed and starched uniforms, shoes shined and hats respectfully resting in their laps.

"Chief Cederstrand dedicated thirty-seven years to bravely serving the public; the community he loved. He fought for what he believed in, for what he cherished above all else—life. He was a man of integrity and courage, of compassion and generosity. In honor of him, we come together today not only to mourn the loss of a great man, but to celebrate the life he lived. Lord giveth, and Lord taketh away; Chief Douglas Cederstrand will be sorely missed, but through our hearts and fond memories, his spirit will live on for eternity."

Pictures depicting moments of Chief Cederstrand's life surrounded the altar; some nestled above blankets of flowers, others enlarged and held upon ornate stands. Above his casket, upon a spread of red and white roses and decorative greenery set gently over a draped American flag, rested his white topped and black rimmed uniform cap. It was the traditional arrangement for a fallen firefighter—a comrade, a brother who had departed this world and ventured into another beyond.

In between prayers, members of his family and peers from his life-long career paid their respects to him through the sharing of their memories of the man with the chapel full of attendants. Some brought forth tears, others laughter that rumbled softly through the crowd. Two hours into the service, Carlisle stood from his seat beside Edward and made his way to the podium. Approaching the altar, he knelt in respect and briefly laid a hand upon the corner of the casket as he passed; a final farewell to a dear old friend and mentor. When he took the stand, he paused for a moment of silence before swallowing thickly and finding his voice.

"Thank you all for coming here today in support of Doug's family," he began, and looked down to his wife, Beth, seated between her children and grandchildren. "My deepest sympathies and prayers go out to you and your loved ones for your tremendous loss."

Turning his gaze to the masses of people before him, filling the seats of the pews and every inch of standing room only space, he smiled sadly and thought of the man they'd all gathered to see off into the Heavens.

"I first met Doug when I was just a boy who idolized his father and the other heroes he worked with. Doug took me under his wing at the tender age of seven. He taught me how to work a fire extinguisher, coil hose, and, believe it or not, change a tire." A small chuckle rippled through the crowd. "But as a young boy hanging around the firehouse from time to time, I never truly understood just who he was as a person outside of being a hero to me. It took years of working with him to see him for the character he was."

A genuine smile crossed Carlisle's lips at the fond memories he held. "Doug lived to laugh and make others laugh with him. He could be serious, when need be, but it was a rare occasion within the station walls. In the first year alone that I worked with him, I'd lost track of how many of his pranks I'd been on the receiving end of. Short sheets, pillowcases filled with wadded up newspaper, and mysteriously vanishing towels and clothing from the shower stalls seemed to be commonplace whenever he was around." A roar of laughter echoed within the church, and Carlisle knew, many of the ones laughing the hardest had been victims of such shenanigans as well. "Even when he became Captain, and then Chief a few years later, the jokester side of him remained. What sticks out the most in my memory, however, is something he'd holler out at least once every shift: '_Quit playin' with your hoses and get back to work_.'"

Carlisle chuckled and shook his head as another surge of laughter rang out in the crowd. "Nothing was ever business only in his eyes. The house has never been the same since he retired, but his spirit will always remain through the laughter of generations to come within those very same walls that he spent a lifetime leaving his mark upon.

"It was a joy to work with him, and an honor be his brother and friend. He will be greatly missed. Thank you, Beth and the rest of the Cederstrand family, for allowing me the privilege of speaking here today in his honor."

At the end of the ceremony, Edward joined his fellow firefighters in their silent march behind the engine with flashing lights carrying Doug's casket to its final resting place. A police escort led their slow procession under the two raised aerial truck ladders with a flag hung between the buckets, and down the few blocks to the cemetery.

In the beginning leg of the march, Edward felt the hands of his father and Emmett upon either of his shoulders as he wheeled himself along slowly, their thoughts not far from his own at the sight of the casket set upon the back of the truck before them. Just days short of a year before, they'd almost had to make the same silent journey; not only for the loss of one of their fellow firefighters, but for one of their own flesh and blood. For him.

Glancing to up to his left to see the boy-grown-man walking beside him with squared shoulders and eyes focused forward, Edward thought about how, had his life not been flipped on its axis, there was no telling whether or not, on this particular day, he would have found himself marching beside his little brother. He knew one thing for certain, however; had nothing happened to him the night of the N. Orchard Street fire, thereby altering nearly every aspect of his life... he wouldn't have chosen to. On this day, however, with as close as their relationship had become, marching beside Emmett had been a choice he'd been proud to make.

Turning his eyes forward once again, he wondered at the incredible changes a split second had made in his life.

_August_

"Are you ready?" Bella asked, squatting before him. Behind her, at the far end of the parallel bars, stood his entire family, Alec and Kelly with Nick between them, and Aaron with a few of their fellow support group members. More than one video camera was poised in the air, ready and waiting to capture the monumental moment they'd all been hoping and praying for.

"Definitely." His grin was met with a lingering kiss before she trotted off to join the others but standing at the very end of the parallel bars just as he'd asked her to.

"You know the deal, man. Hands on the walker at all times, pace yourself, and if you feel unsteady at any time, say so. Sean and Jimmy will be right beside you at all times, and I'll be right behind you."

Edward nodded to Seth to show he understood as he rotated the leg rests of his wheelchair out of the way and planted his feet flat on the ground. This was the moment he'd been fighting for over a year for. The moment he'd often prayed for and felt might go unanswered. It had finally come.

Reaching out to grab a hold of the bars on the walker, his hands shook violently—not out of fear or anxiety, but out of anticipation. Everything he wanted and needed resided at the end of the black rubber mat his feet rested upon: his wife-to-be, his family, his _future_ and the promises it held.

With a little help from Jimmy and Sean, Edward brought himself from sitting in his wheelchair, to standing upon his own two feet. Once steadied, he adjusted his grip on the walker's handles and gave a nod to the men beside him to acknowledge he was ready. They let go, their hands falling away from under his arms and he was standing, on his own. No harnesses or gliding bars bearing portions of his weight. No aides or friends or family members holding him up. No water altering gravity. Just him, fully independent of any assistance.

He took a moment to savor it and quell his urgent desire to race down the length of the walkway as fast as he possibly could, for he knew even attempting to do so would result in his standing at full height coming to an abrupt, and possibly painful, end. With conscious caution, he moved the walker forward, not a mere inch, but not too far either. Moving to step first with his right leg, he bent his knee and felt his foot come off the floor, swing forward, and hit the mat directly beneath him heavier than he'd intended it to.

Steeling himself to move the left, his eyes closed as his leg shook and jerked while his foot dragged across the mat. It wasn't quite as bad as it had been months before, but the range of motion he was able to control on his own in his left knee wasn't nearly as good as it was in his right. His left leg was rigid in comparison to the opposite side, having suffered a greater degree of atrophy while it had been healing within the cast. With continued vigorous therapy, Edward hoped it would one day return to normal as his right leg showed promise of doing, but realistically, he knew it was highly probable that because of the nerve damage he'd sustained from the injury to it, he'd forever walk with a gimp. The prospect was livable, all things considered, but his ultimate goal was to prevent it from keeping him from one day returning to active duty.

_"God, thank you," _Bella breathed, tears brimming in her eyes. Seeing everything he'd worked so god awfully hard for, everything they'd suffered through together for, for over a year, finally come to fruition before her very eyes was a miracle only the Heavens could have bestowed upon them. From behind her, she could hear excited words of encouragement mix with the occasional sniffle or tearful laugh, but her focus remained trained on the man inching his way closer toward her.

Minutes later, slow progression found him approaching the end. A smile crossed his lips as he looked up and saw Bella patiently waiting for him, hands pressed together and fingers against her lips with unshed tears in her eyes. Her soft, joyous smile spread in return of his. Only a handful of steps stood between him and the final destination of his first solo journey upon legs he once couldn't even feel. The first of just one of the many things he'd lost in trade for the life of the woman he loved had finally been returned to him. As he took the final step to her, he knew, with every fiber of his being, the rest would be given back to him as well; in time.

"We're getting there, baby," she whispered, her tears finally falling as her hands reached out to cup his face when he leaned down toward her. He grinned, slightly out of breath as he pressed his forehead against hers and savored the feeling of victory coursing through his veins.

"Yeah, _finally_ we're getting there."

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**A/N: Don't spaz yet! We still have the epilogue to go LOL. I know there are still some unanswered questions lingering, and I assure you, the answers lie within the Epi. So now that we're near the very end, I have a question for all of you: If you could pick just one missing moment to see in an outtake, what would it be? Clicky the button below to tell me ^_^ **


	40. Epilogue

Disclaimer: Twilight character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. All intellectual properties associated with _Through the Flames_ belong to SparklingTwilight. Plagiarism is theft. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization. Thank you.

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Epilogue

Four-thirty on a late September morning found most of Tacoma fast asleep. Light fog had settled over the streets and between the houses as the neighborhood slumbered away, making the street lamps appear as nothing more than blooms of light that one man used to guide his early morning journey. The air was crisp and moist, and Edward breathed it in deeply as he turned a corner, Tango faithfully at his side. The only sound that accompanied him—his own feet, pounding against the pavement with each jogging stride.

For six months, Edward had struggled to just stand. For over a year and a half after painstakingly achieving that first goal, he fought with everything in him for a full recovery. Two years, two months, and thirteen days of achieving each milestone he'd set for himself had brought him to this day; the final culmination of his fight to regain everything he'd lost in the early morning hours of July 12th, 2009.

September 25th, 2011, that very day, marked the day he would return to active duty.

The muscles in his legs burned and ached by the end of the second mile, but he pressed on, pushing himself to reach the level of endurance he'd once possessed with ease. His fight to erase any lingering effects of his injuries continued, even two years later, but the relief that coursed through his veins at how far he'd already come had replaced the defeat and despair that once suffocated him and kept him motivated. One day he might be able to once again beat his brother up to the top of the drill tower, fifty pounds of hose coiled over each shoulder, but the past Friday wasn't that day—and tomorrow wouldn't likely be either, but that was okay. One day would come. If he'd learned anything over the last two years, it was that.

His new goal on his morning runs was to make it to the local park and back, a five mile distance he'd yet been unable to complete at a jogging pace. Just as he had in weeks prior, his uneven lope slowed to a stroll just over a mile from home. His legs felt as though they'd been set aflame, and his chest burned with each panting breath of exertion. He hadn't achieved his goal, but that, too, was okay. He'd undoubtedly try again the following day.

Arriving home just after five am, he climbed the two steps onto his porch—the ramp having been taken down shortly after his wheelchair had been hoisted in the air, chained to the bucket of their station's aerial ladder, and set ablaze in celebration of his no longer needing it. Inside, the scent of strongly brewed coffee filled his senses as he toed off his sneakers, and pulled his hooded sweatshirt over his head. After climbing the stairs quietly, he slipped into the bedroom to retrieve his uniform that had been pressed and hung from the closet doorknob. Behind him, as he retreated ever so quietly, the sound of his wife's soft snore brought a smile to his face.

In the days following his awakening in the hospital, never would he have thought that his life, after being so horribly injured, would become more fulfilling than it had ever been before. Never in his wildest dreams would he have thought that the very woman he'd risked everything to rescue, would become his best friend, his wife, his entire world. She'd stolen his heart before he'd even been aware it was available for the taking; before he'd ever been aware that he'd had hers all along, as well.

Standing beneath the steaming spray of water, Edward thought about just how much his life had changed. He could remember early mornings such as this one, spent yelling at his brother on the phone to get out of bed so he'd be on time for work. He could remember the frustration he felt every morning he knew he'd be walking into the station house, facing a twenty-four hour tour of babysitting his little brothers. He could remember how much of the joy of his job he'd felt he lost because of that heavy weighted responsibility, and wishing he, or his brothers, be put on different shifts so he could be free of the burdens that responsibility yielded—but things had changed. Now, after everything his little brother had endured while standing at his side through the hardest years of his life, he felt almost disheartened that Emmett wouldn't be with him; that he wouldn't share with him the excitement and thrill he felt at returning to what he'd loved his entire life.

Right in front of Edward's very eyes, Emmett had grown into a man that even he, himself, could look up to. In everything he did, Edward was proud of him. He was an incredible father, a loving and devoted husband, a reliable and respected crewmate, and a pillar of strength and support for their family. He'd finally become the man Edward had always known he was capable of being. The strain that had been steadily disintegrating their relationship for years prior to the accident had become ancient history. Watching the two of them side by side now, laughing together, and planning weekend getaways for just the two of them ritually, one would never think they'd ever drifted apart. From the outside looking in, it would appear they'd been best friends their entire lives, not just brothers bound together by the blood they shared.

Thinking of Emmett got Edward thinking of Jasper, and subsequently Alice. Overall, each of them were doing quite well on their own, but the friendship they'd reestablished after their divorce had begun to fall apart over the previous few months. At the beginning of summer, just weeks before Edward and Bella's wedding, Alice finally introduced everyone in the family to the man she'd been dating for a little over four months. She'd been hesitant to bring Kevin to the dinner outing, nervous and anxious over how the family and Jasper would receive him—and just as she'd feared, Jasper had been anything but welcoming to the new person joining their table. Their friendship hadn't been the same since.

Edward felt for his brother, knowing Jasper still harbored amorous feelings for her, but he truly felt in his heart that they weren't meant to be together. Kevin was a nice guy; he worked as a flight medic, and treated Alice like she was the center of his world. He seemed to be exactly what she'd wanted and needed, and no one could fault her for moving on when she was truly happy. She was a completely different woman than she'd been throughout most of their marriage and the year following their divorce; she absolutely radiated joy. Seeing her truly move on tore Jasper to pieces, and it was his hurt that continued to keep them distanced from one another, but Edward knew time had a way of healing even that which someone doubts ever can be. Everything in life just takes a little bit of time.

Freshly shaved and dressed, Edward made his way back into the bedroom. It was just after six, and though Alec was due to arrive at any minute, he couldn't break the promise he'd made to Bella the night before. Lowering himself down onto the side of the mattress, he brushed the hair away from her face and lowered his lips to her forehead.

"Sweetie, wake up."

His whisper as he brushed his nose against hers earned him a contented sigh as her eyes fluttered open.

"There's those beautiful brown eyes I love," he chuckled, adjusting himself to lay beside her. As he cupped the side of her face and brought his lips to hers, she placed her hand over it and slid her fingers between his.

"You remembered," she murmured, as he pressed his face into the crook of her neck. The fingers of her free hand threaded into his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp as she deeply breathed in his freshly showered scent.

"I promised, Bella," he said, and kissed her neck before pulling his head up. As he spoke, he looked deep into her dark eyes and caressed her cheek with his thumb.

"I'll never leave angry, I'll never leave without waking you, and I'll never leave without kissing you and telling you how much I love you."

Her heart swelled at the emotion in his eyes, this man beside her that she'd fallen so deeply in love with. If she were selfish, she'd ask him to choose her over his passion for his career. If she were selfish, she'd plead with him to find a mundane, nine-to-five job that posed no threat to his existence. If she were selfish, she'd allow herself to shed the tears she could feel beginning to prickle her eyes. But she wasn't selfish, and she loved him too much to ask him to sacrifice something he loved as dearly as he did her, so she said the only thing she could before kissing him goodbye.

"Be safe, I love you."

"I love you, Bella." He smiled down at her and pulled the blanket back, exposing her slightly swollen belly, covered only by one of his Tacoma F.D. t-shirts that he gently pushed up and away from her skin. "And I love you, too, little one. Be nicer to Mommy today than you were yesterday, because Daddy won't be here to help make her feel all better."

He pressed a kiss to her belly as she smiled down at him and smoothed a hand over his hair. She found it absolutely adorable when he talked to their unborn child. After covering her back up so she was warm, he stood from the bed and leaned down for one final kiss. At the door, he turned and smiled at her, searing the sight of her in their bed into his mind for the long hours ahead of him that they'd be apart.

"I'll be home in the morning."

Downstairs, in Bella's new kitchen that took almost an entire year to finish on an extremely tight budget, Edward had just finished fixing his to-go mug of coffee when he heard the low rumble of Alec's truck pull in the driveway. While he would have loved nothing more than to replace the truck he'd had to sell in the early days of his recovery, other expenses had taken precedence. With a baby on the way, and his just now returning to work, replacing his beloved truck was on the low end of the totem pole of his priorities.

"You ready to work, boy?" he asked, squatting down to the floor and ruffling Tango's fur. The furious wagging of his tail and groaning bark of a response had Edward laughing as he stood and grabbed his mug. After loading Tango and his duffle bag into the back of the truck, Edward hopped into the passenger seat and sighed as he glanced at his dark house, only the porch light illuminated in the slowly brightening dawn.

"Thanks for the ride, man." At this, Alec chuckled as he backed out of the driveway.

"Bro, Kelly and I live three streets over. It's not like I had to drive across town to get you."

Edward had never expected Alec to stay with him as long as he had, but neither he, nor Bella, minded him extending his stay either. It was illogical, and entirely unnecessary, for him to find himself an apartment, and have to pay to furnish and stock it with everything he'd need to live in it, when everyone had begun making bets as to whether or not he'd be moving in with Kelly by the end of the year regardless. No one, however, had thought to guess Alec would propose to her at the department Christmas party. He was moved in by Christmas Eve, and on St. Patrick's Day, in the local courthouse with Nick as their only bridal party attendant, they were officially declared Mr. and Mrs. Alec Sullivan in front of just a handful of people.

Stopped at a traffic light, Alec looked over at him and asked the question that had been burning on his mind all morning. "You really ready for this?"

"Are you shitting me?" Edward laughed, looking at him incredulously. "I've been_ waiting_ for this."

"I'll tell you one thing," Alec grinned, elbowing Edward in the arm. "It'll be good to have my old partner back."

Pulling into the station parking lot, Edward felt the first of his nerves begin to rise. Staring at the house, he ran a hand through his hair as Alec parked the truck. When he'd shut the ignition off and withdrew the key, Edward grabbed a hold of his arm. Not a day in his life had he ever thought of the regrets he'd leave behind in this world should he lose his life, but on the brink of returning to his fraught with danger calling in life, a million of them sped through his mind.

"If anything ever happens to me, _promise me_ you and Kelly will be there for Bella and our baby. Take care of them for me."

"You know we will, man. You know we will," Alec reassured with conviction at seeing the overwhelming fear in his eyes. Fear not for himself, but for those he loved that he might one day leave behind.

If Edward could trust anyone in this world to follow through with his request, it was Alec. Alec would ensure that Bella and their child would never forget how much they were loved by him, and they'd never question that he'd done everything in his power to return home to them. They'd know he was with them, every moment of every day; even if they couldn't see him, he'd be there.

After exiting the truck, Edward paused in front of it, his bag tossed over his shoulder and one hand in his pocket, grasping and turning his cell phone in his palm. "I'll be in in a minute."

"Tell Bella I said hey," Alec smirked as he walked backwards toward the building. Standing in the open side door, he whistled for the dogs and disappeared inside while Edward pressed his phone to his ear.

"Forget something?" Bella's smiling voice answered. Just hearing her sweet voice calmed and centered him.

"No, I just...Bella, before I walk in there, I need to know you're really okay with this."

As he spoke, she twirled her wedding set around on her finger. Visions of the day they'd been married danced around in her mind, along with the knowledge she'd held that day, just as she did now, of who the man she was marrying is, had always been, and always would be.

"I'm okay with it, honey. I promise," she answered truthfully. "It's who you are, Edward, and I love every part of you. Even this one. Just don't fall in love with the next person you rescue."

Though her teasing words had been meant to make him laugh, he could do no more than smile as they spoke for just a few more minutes. It had taken him twenty-nine years, and nearly losing his life to find her. There could never be another, of that he was absolutely certain. She got him, accepted him as he was—flaws and all—and loved him in spite of his numerous downfalls. Their journey to the present day hadn't been an easy one, but he'd go through it all over again if it meant always having her by his side.

Crossing the threshold into the station, dressed in his uniformed blues, felt surreal after fearing for so long that this moment would never come. The clang of the metal door echoed in the vast expanse of the truck bay as it closed behind him, and the smell of rubber, faint exhaust, and a hint of smoke struck him with nostalgia. Memories of years past—burnt meals, tar-like coffee, probie pranks, wet downs, parades, victories and losses, shared laughter and sorrow—ran rampant through his mind as he made his way through the bay toward the dividing line of lockers. This was his home away from home, shared with members of another family given to him not by birth or blood, but by the kinship of a noble calling.

Standing in front of his locker space, adorned with his name on a brass plate at the very top, Edward dropped his bag to the floor as he removed his helmet from where it had sat, unused, for the last two years. He turned it in his hands, inspecting it, and tears of an indefinable emotion brimmed in his eyes as his fingers traced the scuffs and burn marks it had received during his last battle with the beast. His disastrous dance with the Devil's Muse. Like him, it too had been damaged, but not beyond repair. It would live to see another day, and fight another fire, just as he would.

Leaning against the rear end of their pumper truck, Emmett watched over his brother silently. He wished more than anything he was coming on shift rather than coming off of it. The guys on his crew were great, but it wasn't the same without Edward. Given the choice, he'd return to their shared shift, but that wasn't what his brother had wanted before the accident.

Hearing some of the other guys heading down the stairs, Emmett approached Edward just as he was shelving his helmet.

"Is it weird? Being back, I mean?" Em asked, worried how Edward was handling it.

"A little," he admitted, nodding as he leaned with his shoulder against the locker. "Two years ago I never thought I'd be standing here again...I didn't think I'd be _standing_ anywhere at all."

Emmett shuffled his footing, not wanting to talk about the past. His prayers had been answered; his brother was alive and walking again, and he'd been given the chance he'd pled for to rekindle their friendship. He didn't want to ever look back to what had been, or spend any more time thinking of what could have been.

"Take it easy today, huh?" he sighed. "We just got you back. None of us are ready to lose you."

Edward's momentary smile was apologetic as his head bobbed just once, his gaze focused on his hand trailing down the back of his turnout coat hanging in his locker. His eyes flicked upward, and he stood up straight as Emmett stepped closer. For a moment, Edward almost felt like the younger sibling as Em picked his duffle bag up off the floor and tossed it over his shoulder.

"Welcome back, bro," he grinned, throwing his free arm over Edward's shoulders. "Pop's upstairs in the office waiting for you. I'll leave your bag on your bed."

As they made their way up the stairs, guys getting ready to come off shift were making their way down, each of them giving the same greeting as they passed. By the time he'd made it into the office and had closed the door behind him, he'd begun wondering if he'd just imagined seeing most of them at some point within the last few weeks, or if they really hadn't seen him since before the accident—though he was pretty sure at least four of the six of them had been at the bar just two nights ago when he and Bella had stopped in.

"You wanted to see me?" Edward asked, lowering himself into one of the chairs in front of the desk.

Seeing his son in front of him, ready to embark on the first twenty-four hour tour of his return, caused mixed emotions to swell within him. Pride for all he'd conquered and overcome, and gut wrenching fear of walking out the door and having this moment be the last he ever sees of him.

"I did," he answered, rising from his chair and rounding the desk. He turned the chair beside Edward and sat down facing him. "Before I say anything else, I want you to know how damn proud of you I am. Not just of what you've accomplished, but of _you_. I'm proud of the man you are, the husband you are to Bella, and the father you will be to your child." Carlisle's gaze lingered, wanting his son to know how sincere his words were.

"Dad, don't...it's not necessary..."

"It is," he refuted adamantly. "With that said, if you get hurt, I don't care how _minimal_ the injury is, you head home and _stay_ home until you're healed. I need your word on that."

"Okay, I will," Edward nodded, looking him straight in the eye so he'd know he wasn't being dishonest.

"Please understand, keeping yourself safe will never disappoint me, anyone in our family, or any of the members of this house. You're irreplaceable, son, remember that."

Edward knew that now. He may have learned it the hard way, through the tears and anguish of his loved ones, but he knew it now with such unshakable conviction that he'd never question it again as long as he lived. After being dismissed, Edward stood to leave, only to have his father call him back.

"Edward? One more thing..." he trailed off, smiling as he tossed him a set of keys.

"What are these for?" he asked, his brow furrowed as he looked down at a set of keys for a Toyota.

"Just a little congratulatory gift from us and the Swans," he shrugged. "It's nearly identical to your old one. Emmett and Alec should be back with it within the hour. Welcome back, son."

Tears once again brimmed in his eyes, just enough to blur his vision without spilling over as he looked up. "It's really over...isn't it? Everything's going back to normal."

"The worst is over," Carlisle confirmed, stepping forward to wrap his arms around his son. "But where we are now is better than where we've ever been."

Later that evening, after taking his new Tundra out for a quick spin and settling back into the house routine, Edward found himself lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. Since the beginning of his shift, they'd only had two calls; a possible carbon monoxide leak, and a false alarm. From the beginning of his career, quiet shifts like the one they were having, never seemed to stay quiet throughout the night. His crewmates, well accustomed to the drill, took to their beds right after supper, but Edward found himself unable to sleep as others snored up a storm around him.

The static crackling over the empty airwaves of his handheld radio resting atop his headboard, held him captive in an anxious, expectant state. Waiting, just staring at the ceiling as he listened for the unique click that preceded a series of tones. If the radio was in his hand, his gaze would be focused on the LCD decibel bar, waiting for the subtle jump amidst the random fluctuations, just before the bars shot straight across the small screen.

"You feel it too, don't you?"

Edward turned his head to look at Alec in the bed next to his, wondering how long he'd been awake, or if he'd ever fallen asleep at all. "Yeah. It's coming, whatever it is. I haven't been this on edge since...the last night I laid here."

"You nervous?"

Edward let loose a nearly silent laugh as he turned his head back toward the ceiling, his hands folding beneath his head as he sighed.

"More than I thought I'd be," he finally admitted after long moments of contemplation.

"Whatever's gonna happen, is gonna happen," Alec commented as he turned onto his stomach, ready to get some shuteye. "There's no stopping it, but at least we can be prepared for it, bro. Get some sleep."

Alec's words had been the truth, but they did nothing to calm the anxious anticipation brewing within him. Alec's breathing eventually slowed and rose in volume as he joined the others in slumber, and Edward closed his eyes, willing his mind to quiet. Before long, he was dreaming peacefully of years still to come. Years of celebrating his and Bella's anniversary in the same place they'd spent their honeymoon; in the cabin at the lake. Years of chasing his daughter around the yard, tripping over her toys on his way to join Bella in bed, and waking in the morning to her climbing into bed with them. Years of driving the old Mack truck in parades, with his daughter in his lap, wearing a plastic red firefighter helmet and tooting the air horn with a smile on her face.

Years of happiness like he'd never known before.

At twelve-nineteen, a car passed by the firehouse. The beams of light from its headlights cut through the windows of the closed bay doors, momentarily drifting across the front of the housed trucks.

At twelve forty-two, the streetlamp just outside the stationhouse flickered briefly before fading out, leaving the side of the building in complete darkness.

At one-twelve, a dispatcher accidentally tipped over his nearly empty cup of coffee while reaching over to accept an incoming call.

At one-thirteen, the station's alarm sounded, ripping eight men, and two dogs, from their slumber.

Shoving their feet back into their boots, adrenaline began to surge, erasing the last bits of sleep from their minds and leaving them wide awake and alert. Racing down the stairs, they listened to the details coming through their radios.

A fully involved structure fire, with residents presumed to be trapped inside.

At his locker space, Edward quickly donned his turnout gear while staring at the photos he'd taped to the inner side wall of the people who mattered most in his life. His parents, Emmett with Rosalie and Ian, Jasper and Alice from years before, and one of himself and Alec side by side. At the very top, above everyone else, his wife and the ultrasound of their daughter growing inside her womb—who they'd be announcing at dinner with the family the following night as Morgan Alexis Cullen.

"Still nervous?" Alec questioned quietly, with a quick jab to Edward's side.

Sliding his arm into his bunker coat, he turned his head and grinned. "Not a bit. Let's roll."

Grabbing his helmet from the top shelf of his locker, he kissed his fingers and touched the top two pictures, before turning away and jumping into the truck.

Sirens wailed and lights flashed wildly as they pulled away from the station. Seated across from him, the station's new probie, Jordan Davis, dropped his helmet as he yanked the zipper of his coat upward. With steady hands, Edward retrieved it and placed it into Jordan's awaiting, trembling ones. Leaning forward, Edward secured the front of his coat, and affixed the neck shield before leaning back.

"Thanks," Jordan nodded, trying to calm his racing heart.

"First fire outside of the academy?" Edward smirked.

"Yeah..." he trailed off, not wanting to admit just how nervous he was. His first shift had been quiet—only a single call to ventilate a smoke filled house after an amateur combination of frozen chicken and overheated cooking oil—but it was filled with the talk of the Lieutenant's return. In those twenty four hours, he'd heard every detail of what had nearly been Edward's last call, and all he'd been through in the two years following it.

This shift, he'd met a man who personified heroism, but viewed himself as no more than ordinary. An ordinary man who now walked with a slight gimp after nearly losing a fight with fire, but winning a battle against life threatening injuries and paralysis.

A man sitting across from him, seemingly unafraid of what they were heading into, and unshaken by what he'd walked away from.

"Any advice?"

Edward leaned his head back against the seat and locked eyes with him as he spoke. "Yeah. Keep your eyes open, always be aware of your surroundings, and _never_ go in alone."

At the feeling of a strong hand gripping his shoulder, Edward closed his eyes and blocked out the excited commotion within the truck's cab. His hand came to rest atop his chest, covering where his medallion lay against his bare skin, and familiar words of comfort filled his mind.

_When I am called to duty, God,_

_Wherever flames may rage,_

_Give me strength to save a life,_

_Whatever be its age._

_Let me embrace a little child_

_Before it is too late,_

_Or save an older person _

_From the horror of that fate._

_Enable me to be alert,_

_To hear the weakest shout,_

_And quickly and efficiently_

_Put the fire out._

_I want to fill my calling,_

_To give the best in me,_

_To guard my friend and neighbor,_

_And protect their property._

_And, if, according to your will,_

_I have to lose my life,_

_Please bless, with your protecting hand,_

_My child and my wife._

_"The hero is commonly the simplest and obscurest of men." ~Henry David Thoreau_

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**A/N****: Before I go on to my longwinded spiel of gratitude, I must say... Ya'll are a bunch of pervy h00rs! (As if I'm surprised LOL) Out of any missing moment throughout the whole story, 99.9% of ya'll wanted the SMUT haha. I'm not sure how many outtakes I'll write, but one is already written. Toss me on author alert or just keep an eye on my profile to know when I post. I'll be putting creating a new story tab for any outtakes I write for this story. **

**And onto my rambling of insane gratitude...(feel free to close the browser now, but don't forget to click review!)**

**Big hugs and thanks to the wifey Julieblys. I can't even begin to put into words how hard I love you. I wouldn't have made it through this journey without you ^_^**

**Huge, huge, HUGE shout-out to KitsuShel for the big pimping on Twitter and reviewing Through the Flames on the TwilightAwards blog. It was freaking AMAZING. If you haven't read it yet, you should check it out and leave her some love. http:/reviews(dot)thetwilightawards(dot)com/**

**And also huge thanks to Professor Plum over at P.I.C's Fanfic Corner for posting an epic review rec! Definitely worth taking a moment to read ^_^ **

**http:/picffcorner(dot)blogspot(dot)com/2010/09/professor-plum-goes-through-flames-by(dot)html?zx=a1743bf75f8d4ba1**

**Sasha (TKMOON712), lovie, I haven't forgotten you! Thank you so much for torturing yourself with a WIP and being my pre-reader extraordinaire. This story could, and would, have been entirely different if it wasn't for you and the wifey constantly keeping me in line lol. Lubbs you babe ^_^**

**Big thanks to all the WC ladies that have helped me work through major loads of writers block over the last few months, and kept me awesome company while doing so. KitsuShel, IPunchWerewolves4Fun, Laurnorder, AJsilentvoice, Emily Bowden, JennDur, Kaitlynne Foote, Busymommy, AGoodWitch, Kelly Kervin, Jolanda...OMG my head is spinning trying to keep you all straight LOL. If I forgot anyone, my deepest apologies. I look forward to future WC's with all of you! **

**Last, but certainly not least, MEGA thanks to all of you, the readers ^_^ I haven't always had the time to stop and thank each and every one of you for the thoughts, comments, and love that you've left in reviews, but please know that I've read and loved each and every one of them. To those of you who have taken the time to share your own experiences and hardships with me along the way, thank you for keeping me inspired and motivated to continue telling this story. It's because of people like you, your husbands, fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, and friends who risk their lives daily in this line of profession having had such an impact on my life that I felt the need to tell this tale. Through the Flames wouldn't exist without them. **

**And onto the truth behind the story...**

**In my real life, I was once blessed enough to know an "Edward". The events that transpired in this story are loosely based on a tragic incident that left him permanently paralyzed from mid-chest down. For him, there was no recovery, there was no support from the people he'd been trying to help, and there was no happily ever after waiting for him at the end of his journey through hardships. Through the Flames is a compilation of the hopes, dreams, and prayers myself, his friends, and family had all had for him. It's what we wished could have happened for someone we loved dearly. **

**Thank you all for taking this journey with me. **


	41. Outtake 1

Disclaimer: Twilight character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. All intellectual properties associated with _Through the Flames_ belong to SparklingTwilight. Plagiarism is theft. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization. Thank you.

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Outtake

Edward ran a nervous hand through his hair as he laid beneath the blankets, waiting for Bella to finish changing for bed. Just the night before, what should have been a very romantic night for them had ended in near disaster. He'd wanted to make her feel special and loved, cared for, so he'd spent the entire afternoon preparing a lovely meal he'd intended to serve by candlelight. Alec had made plans that would keep him out late in the evening, and his family had all been warned not to suddenly drop by. She'd been amazed when she'd walked through the door, heard jazz music playing softly in the background and saw the flickering glow coming from down the hall in the otherwise darkened house. They'd eaten the delicious meal he'd cooked, shared a half bottle of wine, and she'd been utterly delighted as he'd fed her bites of chocolate drizzled cheesecake. Everything had gone according to plan... until their attempt at furthering their physical relationship came to a sudden, and mortifying, halt.

Lying in bed and waiting for her, knowing that once again the house was empty of anyone other than themselves, all Edward could think about was how he'd been unable to get an erection. For as aroused as he was by her tender touch and ministrations, his anatomy below the belt had remained flaccid. It wasn't the first time he'd encountered the issue, but before that moment he'd naively blamed it on being under too much stress and not being able to distract himself far enough away from his troubling thoughts. He hadn't thought it'd continue to be an issue, much less while he was being touched by a woman rather than by himself.

He'd been so embarrassed by it that his desire to continue had vanished. He'd felt horrible about it, and Bella... god, Bella had been nothing but understanding and comforting afterward. So much so that it had made him feel even worse over the whole ordeal. She always gave herself so freely to him, and the one instance where he thought he could give all of himself back to her, he couldn't.

"You're dwelling right now, aren't you?"

Her soft voice beckoned his gaze in her direction, and he watched her pad barefooted toward the bed. His hand ran through his hair again as he nodded, still watching her as she climbed into bed clad only in one of her long sleep shirts that exposed nearly the full length of the creamy skin of her legs. She slid beneath the blankets and curled herself into his side, her arm coming to rest on his bare chest and her leg bent and resting between both of his.

"Bella, don't..." His voice was pained, not reprimanding or harsh as he turned his neck away from where she'd pressed her lips.

"I don't want to let you down again."

"You didn't let me down to start with, Edward."

Bella rose up just enough to shed her nightshirt and toss it to the side. She'd spent half of the night before and nearly her entire day thinking about how upset he'd been over something he couldn't control, and she was determined to show him it wasn't as big of an issue as he was making it out to be.

"Look at me, please?" she asked quietly. His gaze turned toward her, and unable to stop himself, his eyes trailed up and down her naked body.

"Last night, did you want to have sex or make love?"

"What's the difference?" he asked, rolling his eyes slightly because he obviously hadn't been capable of doing either.

"There's a big difference, honey," she replied sadly. "Sex is just a physical act that brings a release. Making love is about connecting with each other in a deeper, more meaningful way."

She pressed a soft, slow, open mouthed kiss to the side of his neck.

"Sex or love?" she whispered. His eyes closed as her fingers gently caressed his chest. No matter how she ever touched him, she always made him feel loved.

"Love."

She carefully moved to straddle him, fully aware of his eyes taking in every inch of her nude flesh, and she took hold of his hands and brought them to the center of her chest.

"Making love is about touch..."

She slowly moved their joined hands in a gentle caress over her breasts and down her torso before leaning forward.

"It's about taste..."

She trailed open mouthed kisses up the front of his neck, feeling him swallow as his hands moved around to her back slowly. His nerves were afire, his thoughts running in confusing circles of want and need and fear.

"It's about sharing and communicating without words what we feel." She pressed her lips to his and allowed him to deepen the kiss, letting him lead as their tongues slowly danced around each other.

"It's not about reaching orgasm, baby. This, what we're doing right now, is making love." His arms wrapped around her, holding her tightly to his chest as he fought down his surge of chaotic emotions.

"Let go of last night, and make love to me, Edward."

His reservations slowly subsided with each loving kiss, each tender caress they pressed each other's flesh, and soon, he found the only thing he could concentrate on was her. Kissing her, touching her, feeling her touch him... nothing existed outside of what they were sharing. His heart thrummed in time with a humming bird's wings in flight; excitement, love, lust... _passion_ coursing through his veins. Straddled atop him, he could feel the heat and moisture of her arousal through his shorts as she rocked against him slowly, and with that sensation, he could feel something else beginning to stir.

"I think..."

"Sshh," Bella shushed softly, already having felt the subtle shift, the sudden increase in hardness beneath her.

She trailed her hand down his side and over his abs before slipping it beneath his shorts and palming his semi-erect length. A throaty groan escaped him as his head tipped back and she smiled into the curve of his neck as she felt him harden a bit more with the soft strokes of her hand.

"Feel good?"

"Incredibly..._god_...don't stop, please, don't stop."

Little hums of laughter escaped her as she kissed her way down his chest and stomach, her inching descent making him squirm beneath her. She slid his shorts down his legs and dropped them to the floor before crawling back between his legs. Hovering over his half hardened arousal, her eyes met his in a warm, reassuring gaze, and in those beautiful cinnamon depths he adored, he understood what she was telling him without words: there were no expectations to live up to.

"Don't think...just feel."

He tried to nod, but it was cut short as her hand wrapped around him and her tongue, moist and warm slid up his shaft. Her unhurried pace, the wandering caress of her free hand, and the look of sheer adoration in her eyes made him feel as though he were being worshipped. He'd never felt anything like it before, and never wanted anyone else to make him feel it again—only her.

Edward threaded his fingers into her hair and gently rubbed her scalp, neither hindering nor guiding her movements as he watched himself, fully erect, slide into and out of her mouth for only a handful of moments. When her gaze rose to meet his, he crooked a finger at her and smiled softly as she released him and crawled up his body. His hands cupped her beautiful face, his thumbs caressing her cheeks as he looked deeply in her eyes.

"I love you, you know that, right?" He wasn't sure why he felt the need to ask, but he did. He needed to make sure that she knew that the intimacy they shared was more than just having sex, that it would _always_ be more than that to him.

"I know," she breathed against his lips before capturing them in a tender kiss. "I love you, too."

Their eyes stayed connected as she inched her way down on him, enveloping his length in her tight heat. Her eyes fluttered closed briefly as a soft moan escaped her at the sensation of being filled by him. She stilled with him fully sheathed within her, savoring the feel of him and the touch of his hands massaging, kneading, memorizing every inch of her skin within his reach. Her eyes opened to his once again as she began rocking slowly, setting a steady, unhurried pace. Forward and back she slid against him, lips and tongues dancing across flesh and twining together as soft moans and groans filled the air.

When Bella had said their making love wasn't about achieving a release by way of orgasm, she'd been sincere, and as she felt him begin to soften inside her, she stopped his attempt to stimulate her before he lost his erection completely and laced their fingers together tightly.

"Not without you."

"Bella... I'm not going to."

He didn't even care that he wasn't going to be able to climax. He only cared that she felt fulfilled by what they'd shared. She shook her head and continued to rock slowly against him until he slipped out of her, and then lowered her chest to lay upon him as she brought their joined hands up and beneath his pillow. She pressed a few kisses to his lips and neck before looking into his eyes.

"I don't need to orgasm every time. All I need, I have right here," she said, giving his fingers a slight squeeze. "Just you. Just us."

He let go of her fingers so he could wrap his arm around her and cup the side of her face. He'd never felt anything remarkably close to what he felt for her for anyone else he'd ever been with, and he knew right then and there, she was it for him. He'd never be able to find a more perfect person to share every part of his life with, both the good and the bad.

"All I'll ever need is you, too."

As he fell asleep that night with the most amazing and wonderful woman in the world in his arms, Edward was content with the knowledge that there may be times when their lovemaking would end without either having climaxed, or one but not the other. What they'd given each other that night, the connection they'd shared, had been more than he'd ever felt before. He felt fully sated, and she'd assured him she felt the same. That was all that mattered, nothing more.

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**PLEASE READ!- Okay so some sneaky FANTABULOUS person/s nominated Through the Flames for a Climax Award - Best Drama on the Shimmer Awards. Whoever you are... THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU *tackle hugs* You're freaking AWESOME! I just wish someone would have told me before I found out via Twitter so I didn't make an arse out of myself by being all... wha? I wasn't nom'd for anything...? =P This here smuttake was posted early in thanks for thinking me good enough to stand amongst some really fantastic authors ^_^ SQUEEEE I'm so flipping excited! If you'd like to vote, here's the link:**

**www(dot)kwiksurveys(dot)com/online-survey(dot)php?surveyID=IJHOGK_f086411a**

**Winners will be posted Feb 20th, I have no idea when voting ends...it didn't say, so please, head over there and vote for your favorite stories (OMG I'm praying TtF is one of em! I'm not ashamed to admit it!) No, seriously. Go. Like NAO. LOL Thank you again, sincerely, for nominating this story ^_^ ****I hope you all enjoyed the outtake!**

**P.S- I was too excited (lazy) to take the extra 30 seconds to put this into it's own new story tab. Oops. LOL. If I happen to write any more, I'll just keep slapping them on the end of TtF. How's that sound? Good? Good. Mmmkay. GO VOTE! *cheesy grin***


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